


milk toast

by gotchick



Series: milk toast [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Awkward Flirting, Barista Kim Jungwoo (NCT), Blow Jobs, Crushes, Emotional Constipation, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, Slice of Life, Stupidity, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Workplace Relationship, barista doyoung, coffee shop AU, dowoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24586069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotchick/pseuds/gotchick
Summary: “Tell me that I’m special. That there’s no one else like me.”“You’re special,” Doyoung says sincerely, giving Jungwoo a finger heart and reminding him of the first day he caught feelings. “There’s no one else like you.”(Or: Not knowing how to confess his crush, Jungwoo enlists Mark's help to make Doyoung jealous. Things don't go quite as planned.)
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Kim Jungwoo, Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Series: milk toast [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1976167
Comments: 52
Kudos: 358





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Admittedly I don’t know much about either Jungwoo or Doyoung, but they’re my fav 127 members and ship so I wanted to contribute to their tag. Please correct me if I make any inaccuracies or mistakes, I want to improve! Kinda nervous as this is my first time writing 127, and I think dowoo is a relatively underrated pairing so I’m not sure how many people would actually read this, but I hope at least one reader out there enjoys it anyway :)
> 
> Also yes I do have to shamelessly insert nomin into everything I write because I’m an actual trash can lol

When did Jungwoo fall into limerence towards his colleague and fellow barista Doyoung?

Maybe it was somewhere along the months they’ve been working side by side, since Jungwoo started part-timing at the coffee shop where Doyoung has been a full-timer for nearly a year. Doyoung graduated from the university Jungwoo is currently attending, but he’s waiting to enter grad school, because of course, being perfect in every way, he’s whip-smart.

Maybe it was since the first day of work, which was the second time he met Doyoung. After his interview at the cafe, when he was about to leave, Jungwoo was surprised to be approached by one of the staff.

 _Good luck_ , Doyoung said back then, gifting Jungwoo a chocolate chip cookie and a dazzling grin. Later, two out of the three cafes he interviewed at ended up calling him back. Both of them offered similar pays. There was no reason in particular for Jungwoo to choose the workplace he ended up choosing, except for Doyoung, his sweet cookie and even sweeter smile.

Or maybe it was that time, soon after he started working, when he was still trying to balance it with his school commitments. Jungwoo really wanted to stay on in this job, though — and not just because from day one Doyoung took him under his wing, patiently teaching Jungwoo to brew overpriced coffee from scratch.

Doyoung found him squatting outside the backdoor of the kitchen, in the deserted alley where they put the trash bags out and some staff smoked. Jungwoo jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, standing up so fast he nearly made Doyoung lose balance.

Jungwoo caught his elbow in time, flustered. Doyoung seemed ruffled too and not his usual impeccable self, taking a step back when Jungwoo straightened up.

His voice was gentle when he spoke though, that smile that still disarmed Jungwoo as much as the first day, now concerned.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry.” Jungwoo tried to hide his embarrassment. “I’ll get back to work, hyung.”

“No.” Doyoung put a hand on his shoulder again, and he started. “I didn’t mean that. Actually… why don’t you take the rest of the shift off? You look tired.”

Jungwoo was dumbfounded for a second, and sheepish about his obvious eyebags. “What? But —“ His mind was racing, slow to catch up.

“It’s fine.” Doyoung’s voice was deep, his laugh reassuring. “I’ve been working here long enough; I can make decisions like this. Go on.”

His eyes held nothing but kindness, and understanding, like the first day they met. Jungwoo felt something in his chest melt, like a candle.

He felt like he should protest, refuse — even if it was okay, he couldn’t leave Doyoung alone in their shift to deal with the evening peak hour — but Doyoung tilted his head sweetly, waiting for his assent, and Jungwoo was just so tired he felt he could fall asleep on his feet.

Doyoung laughed, again, when Jungwoo yawned, then winced in mortification. Doyoung’s dark eyes twinkled with amusement.

“I can handle it, don’t worry. There aren’t as many customers today anyway.”

“Okay,” Jungwoo reluctantly mumbled, and Doyoung’s face lit up.

He arrived at work the next day rejuvenated, eager to see Doyoung and thank him, only to find Jaehyun behind the counter, calling a greeting to him.

Jungwoo glanced at the employees’ schedule on the wall clipboard as he tied his apron strings, confused.

“Isn’t Doyoung hyung supposed to be doing this shift with me?”

Jaehyun laughed at the pout on his face. “Don’t look so disappointed, you’ll hurt my feelings. He took sick leave so I’m replacing for today.”

“He’s sick?” Jungwoo froze.

Jaehyun called out a cheery welcome to a customer entering, looking unconcerned, before replying. “Yeah, just a mild flu, I heard. Should be back by tomorrow, if you’re looking for him.”

Doyoung _was_ back the next day, full spirits restored. The thanks that had laid waiting on Jungwoo’s tongue for a day died in his throat at Doyoung’s bright smile.

“Are you feeling better, Jungwoo-yah?”

“Hyung, you’re the one who was sick, aren’t you?” he blurted out, and Doyoung’s eyes widened, smile faltering.

He looked away, as if abashed, before meeting Jungwoo’s gaze with another eye-grin.

“It was nothing, I just had a tiny cold.” Doyoung stuck out his thumb and index finger with a centimetre between them, then slyly turned it into a finger heart, making Jungwoo break into a stupid smile and swat him.

Later, during Jungwoo’s break, Doyoung approached him again. Whatever little ice had been between them since Jungwoo started working two weeks ago seemed to have entirely dissolved.

“I brought a sandwich from home,” Doyoung said, shyly opening a Tupperware. “Want half?”

Jungwoo nodded gratefully, and wolfed it down. “Delishus,” he gushed even before he finished chewing.

Doyoung seemed pleased. He went to the kitchen and reappeared with a plate of food, which he said Yuta, the chef, had thrown together with leftover ingredients. “Eat a lot.”

By the time Jungwoo realises he can’t stop looking at Doyoung, thinking of Doyoung — Doyoung, a guy; not even his friend yet but only a colleague — it’s too late.

He’s already in the deep end.

See, Jungwoo has countless hyungs. He collects them like shiny things, like charms on a bracelet, adored and doted on by every single one. So technically, Doyoung should just be one of his hyungs. Nobody special.

There’s something different about Doyoung, though. Something about the way he looks at Jungwoo, that makes him feel _seen_.

Bizarre — that’s how most of his friends see Jungwoo. Charmingly bizarre and endlessly adorable.

And he doesn’t mind that image, loves it even. He enjoys clowning around, being the moodmaker in his friend group, being the axle that holds everyone together. But just like everyone else, he has his downtime too, days when he feels more subdued. Just as naturally as he becomes that flamboyant comedian, sometimes he gets the urge to talk about his feelings too.

But on most occasions when he tried expressing that, his friends would stare and laugh, _You’re acting weird, Jungwoo-yah_ or _What’s come over you?_

Of course, he knows they’d be there for him if he ever truly needs to talk; and it’s probably just adolescent angst, but he’s occasionally had the jarring thought that maybe nobody really _gets_ him.

Doyoung wears his sharp-tongued, sassy facade much more distinctly than Jungwoo. It’s so easy to see the real him beneath, and Jungwoo doesn’t know any other guy — or girl, for that matter — who’s as sensitive and thoughtful.

It’s not even really anything Doyoung has said or done, because they haven’t quite left that still-slightly-awkward new friends stage; but Jungwoo just gets this unshakable feeling that Doyoung wouldn’t bat an eyelash no matter what Jungwoo tells him or how he acts. There’s just something so open and accepting about him. So _comfortable_.

Jungwoo watches Doyoung’s capable hands doing delicate tasks during rush hour, and wonders how it would feel to be touched so carefully. Doyoung’s doe eyes are often wide with wonder, and ridiculously, they always _sparkle_. It’s infuriating how adult and mysterious he seems, for someone so pure and honest. There’s a quality about him that magnetises Jungwoo, that makes him want to recklessly lay himself bare, all his idiosyncrasies and feelings. To show everything, and know everything about the older boy in return.

They’re closing up for the night, having just finished the late shift together. Doyoung gives Jungwoo the smile he always does and says he can leave first if he wants; it’s late. Jungwoo refuses and gallantly helps Doyoung with lowering the shutters. Doyoung looks amused as he’s elbowed out of the way.

“Cold?” Jungwoo blurts out, glancing at Doyoung standing beside him with the shirttails of their uniform falling out of his skinny jeans, apron-less. It’s disconcertingly intimate seeing him off-work and rumpled, smile tired but undimmed.

Before Jungwoo thinks twice, he’s peeled off his jacket and draped it clumsily over Doyoung’s shoulders.

The gleam of amusement in Doyoung’s eyes grows, but he pushes his arms into Jungwoo’s jacket sleeves, to his relief. Doyoung looks stunning in it, so he regrets immediately.

“For the record, I could have closed those shutters singlehandedly,” Doyoung remarks, giving him a sidelong look.

“Yeah, okay, hyung,” Jungwoo scoffs, mostly to be a brat. “I’m stronger than you.”

“I’m _definitely_ stronger than you,” Doyoung sputters, reminding him, “Because I’m older.”

“So what? I’m taller!” Jungwoo tiptoes to exaggerate their barely-there height difference, making Doyoung bark out his inimitable laugh.

“Good grief, you’re childish.” Doyoung has apparently let him win the argument, but Jungwoo doesn’t feel like he’s won. He feels personally attacked by how handsome Doyoung looks, beaming foolishly.

“Hyung’s cheating,” he says in a small voice. “It’s against the rules to be this cute.”

A shocked silence ensues, before Doyoung starts laughing in earnest, his mouth open and eyes closed. His laugh, like everything about him, is gorgeous. Doyoung seems to find his statement and petulant tone so hysterical, he’s even seal clapping until his cheeks tint pink.

They both turn when Yuta clears his throat, seeming to have forgotten about his presence. He’s looking at them like they’ve gone bonkers. Yuta rolls his eyes. “I’m leaving first, ya freaks.” Doyoung gives him a sheepish wave goodbye, still biting his lips to suppress his smile.

They walk together to the bus stop and before he gets on his bus Doyoung takes off Jungwoo’s jacket and returns it. Jungwoo wants to ask him to keep it, romantic drama style, but Doyoung is looking at him with such inexplicable fondness in those huge eyes that the words are stuck in his throat.

The bus zooms off, leaving him in the dust, still frozen.

So somehow it devolves to this: every time Doyoung catches him staring, Jungwoo pretends to be flirting with somebody else, so Doyoung will be the one looking away embarrassed instead of him.

It comes effortlessly to him — much more effortlessly than locking eyes with Doyoung and feeling electricity all the way to his toes. Jungwoo is a master in this art. He flirts with customers, both male and female, indiscriminately; with Jaehyun and Yuta and his university friends who come into the cafe and ask for his employee discount. He flirts with Lucas, their hottest regular, who is happy to flirt back. He even flirts with Yuqi, the shift manager, though he knows Lucas only comes in so frequently to see her. He flirts with everything that breathes and moves, until he’s exhausted and burning with shame. He flirts until there’s nobody left he hasn’t flirted with.

(Part of the reason is because this also makes it easier to pretend that when he _does_ flirt with Doyoung, it’s nothing exclusive. That he’s just being himself, and Doyoung is one of the many he flirts with for sport. _Nobody special_.)

The first few times he laid it on thick, Doyoung only blinked as if caught by surprise, and Jungwoo watched him closely, but nothing about his eyes was judgmental. He’d been right — Jungwoo’s heart throbbed — there was nothing but softness in that gaze, no matter how far he went. In fact, Doyoung seemed highly entertained by his antics. And sometimes — _Jesus take the wheel_ — sometimes he even playfully flirted back.

“Wait, dude? You want me to do what?”

“It was Jaemin’s idea,” Jungwoo defends himself, already cursing his first best friend under the saucer eyes of his second. “He said it’d work, for sure.”

“Bruh.” Mark lets out a low whistle. “I need to have a talk with him bout this, but yeah, sure. I’ll help.”

“ _Really?_ ”

“Of course! What are friends for? I want you to be happy, bro.”

“Mark-yah…”

“What? Gross.”

“Thanks.”

They continue eating chips for awhile on Mark’s couch, before he speaks up again.

“I’m kinda surprised by your type, though.”

“Huh?” Jungwoo’s defensive tone creeps out again. He hopes his ears aren’t red. Mark has briefly met Doyoung when he dropped by the coffee shop to bum drinks and cakes on Jungwoo’s employee discount, but Jungwoo will buy him an entire shopful of food if their plan is a success.

“You know, you’re like —” Mark gestures vaguely at Jungwoo’s general outrageousness. “I didn’t think you’d be into someone so _wholesome_.”

 _He’s more fun than you_ , Jungwoo bites his tongue to keep from retorting, because it’s not true and he doesn’t want to hurt Mark who’s being a solid friend. It’s true, though, that Doyoung is anything but boring. His wholesomeness is what Jungwoo likes about him.

He settles on shooting Mark a dirty look, and receives only a grin in response.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day is nice. Jungwoo makes Doyoung an iced latte, having heard it’s his favourite drink, and is rewarded by Doyoung smiling hugely. Jungwoo averts his eyes because Doyoung resembles an arctic fox too much for his heart to handle. He’s almost forgotten the arrangement he made with Mark when he pops in the door, calling out to Jungwoo and bouncing in. Doyoung looks up from his work, startled, but seems to cut him some slack when he recognises Jungwoo’s friend.

Mark leans suavely on the counter and chats Jungwoo up like he’s a girl, darting looks at Doyoung so obvious Jungwoo fears Doyoung will catch on. Doyoung just goes on washing the blender without seeming to pay attention though, and eventually Mark gives Jungwoo a final look and retreats to sit down at a table with his drink. Jungwoo takes a deep breath and scans the place — there are barely any customers; his plan is going smoothly, despite his second thoughts about the intelligence of carrying on with it.

But Mark is sitting there with his straw between his lips and his eyes wide and expectant like a kid’s, and he did make his way down to support Jungwoo’s love life, so Jungwoo taps Doyoung’s shoulder. He finally turns.

“Uh, hyung… can I take my break now?”

Doyoung looks surprised, but gives him a soft smile. “Sure, of course. Go ahead.”

Jungwoo smiles back wanly and gets out from behind the counter, taking off his apron. Mark brightens when he sits down beside him.

Keeping one eye on Doyoung, Jungwoo asks Mark what’s up in an affectionate tone — which is actually pretty normal in terms of their usual greeting. Mark responds warmly, and within minutes he’s hanging off Jungwoo’s arm, laughing like a hyena at a dumb joke Jungwoo cracked. Mark never finds his jokes funny.

To his amusement, Mark drags his chair closer, practically climbing into Jungwoo’s lap, and offers him a sip of his drink. He gives Jungwoo an ambiguous peck on the cheek after Jungwoo thanks him awkwardly. Jungwoo glances over his head at Doyoung, who’s still behind the counter, and catches him shooting them a puzzled look. Probably because Mark never acted like this in the times he visited before.

Jungwoo’s break ends without any more signs of interest from Doyoung, and Mark loiters fifteen minutes more, looking lost, before tossing his cup and bidding farewell. He adds that he’ll be back the next day, eyes roving behind Jungwoo. Jungwoo doesn’t even have to glance at Doyoung to tell from Mark’s unimpressed expression that he must still be wearing the same blank face.

Doyoung gives him permission to take his break when Mark skips in at the same time the next afternoon. Jungwoo redoubles his flirting, ignoring how gross it feels to be hitting on Mark, and to his credit, his best friend hams it up.

They’re whispering to each other in English, Mark’s hand cupped around Jungwoo’s ear and Jungwoo’s arm wrapped around his shoulder, when Mark pauses abruptly. Jungwoo’s broken English dies on his tongue to see Doyoung walking up, carrying a glass.

“I made this drink, and thought you might like to try some...”

Jungwoo untangles himself from Mark and takes a sip, hoping he’s not red. “It’s really yummy, hyung,” he gurgles, and Doyoung smiles, then seems to remember Mark’s presence.

“Oh, would your friend like some too…? Sorry, that was rude of me —“

“No no, I’m good!” Mark lifts the frappuccino Jungwoo made him earlier. “Thanks though.” Jungwoo can tell from his voice that he’s wearing his trademark smug smirk at their apparent success, at long last.

Up close, he realises the expression on Doyoung’s countenance isn’t blank, per se — there’s something… conflicted about it, as if he wants to say something but is repressing himself.

“Hyung?” Jungwoo prompts, heart beating shallowly. His lips part over the straw of Doyoung’s drink.

Doyoung seems to snap back to attention, meeting his eyes in embarrassment. “I won’t interrupt you guys anymore, then.” As he’s turning to go, Doyoung checks his watch and adds as a parting shot, “You should be getting back to work soon.”

Mark punches Jungwoo’s shoulder after Doyoung disappears behind the counter and into the kitchen. “You’re welcome, bruv.” He does have that gloating look on his face, but Jungwoo is too light-headed to find a snide retort to save his pride. He slurps the refreshing drink dreamily, then pats Mark’s shoulder and drifts back to work, forgetting to tell him he can go.

They’re working the earlier shift today, and when Jaehyun and Yuqi arrive to take over, Doyoung surprises Jungwoo by placing a hand on his arm before he leaves.

“You’ve been working hard,” Doyoung says, warm. “Are you free after this? Do you like karaoke?”

“Karaoke?” Jungwoo echoes stupidly, and Doyoung smiles, looking down.

“Yeah.” There’s amusement in his voice. “Wanna go together? Hyung’s treat.”

Jungwoo has to press his knuckles to his mouth to stop the squeal in his throat from bursting out.

They go to a noraebang Doyoung apparently regularly visits, enough to be acquainted with one of the staff. Johnny is hot in a way that Jungwoo _would_ notice if he wasn’t already infatuated with Doyoung. He seems to take a liking to Jungwoo too, joking that he’d love to adopt him. Doyoung gives his friend a look and steers Jungwoo to leave after making payment and mumbling something to Johnny too low for Jungwoo to hear.

Jungwoo stretches, feeling blissful and at ease by Doyoung’s side, matching their paces to walk together on the street. He had a good time, less awkward than expected, and Doyoung’s presence is just so addictive, like a drug.

“Hyung, you’re actually really quirky, aren’t you?” Jungwoo shoots him a sidelong grin, and Doyoung pauses in his tracks, stares at him.

“You’re the one who’s quirky,” he retorts, but there’s no heat in his voice. Jungwoo laughs, giddily. It’s silly, but he felt privileged to be shown a new side of Doyoung today, letting loose and belting out pop songs wildly in the karaoke room. He isn’t even surprised Doyoung is an incredibly hot singer — because of _course_ he is.

They walk a bit farther, Jungwoo wishing they don’t have to part ways and go home. He knows he won’t be able to stop thinking of Doyoung, his swoonsome voice and dorky carefree grin for the rest of the day anyways.

Doyoung slows a little and turns to study Jungwoo, hands shoved in his pockets. There’s a small smile at the ends of his lips.

“So how’re you doing at work? Is everything going fine? You’re so attached to me.”

Jungwoo stops walking, chest tightening. So Doyoung had noticed.

“Am I being too clingy?” The words come out small, despite himself.

“No, that’s not what I mean!” Doyoung is quick to reassure, eyes sincere on his. “It’s just that — you seem shy, but you’re so much fun. I wanted everybody to see that.” Jungwoo could dissolve at how gentle Doyoung’s tone is.

 _You relax me_ , he thinks of saying. _You calm me down_.

Instead, he breathes a bashful laugh. “Thanks. Sometimes I feel like I get too crazy, so I try to tone it down.” He’s never said this to anyone else.

Doyoung stops walking completely too, looks at him. The setting sun behind him, highlighting his hair amber, makes it difficult for Jungwoo to meet his eyes.

“Don’t,” Doyoung says simply. “You’re perfect as you are.”

 _Ew, cheesy_. The words are stuck in Jungwoo’s throat, his smile feeling artificial. Perfect? His chest might explode.

“I didn’t say I don’t like it,” Doyoung says again, quietly. Their eyes lock for a nanosecond, before Doyoung shakes his head and smiles, looking somewhat confused. “You’re so innocent.”

“I’m not innocent,” Jungwoo blurts out, then almost swallows his tongue.

Doyoung’s eyes, which had been moving away, snap back to him. “No?” They’re dark on Jungwoo’s, curious. Jungwoo keeps his face carefully blank under Doyoung’s piercing gaze, smiles weakly. Half nods and shakes his head, then feels stupid.

After a few suspended moments, Doyoung breaks the tension by reaching out to ruffle his hair. He giggles nervously before saying, “I just wanted you to know I’m proud of you. I hope the cafe can become a second home to you.”

“It is,” Jungwoo replies on autopilot. _Thanks to you_. Would it sound weird to say that? He can’t think straight, because he’s never felt so _vulnerable_ under anyone else’s scrutiny.

“He’s totally checking us out,” Mark reports under his breath, eyes huge and excited. Jungwoo pinches him and he protests, rubbing his arm.

“Stop staring,” Jungwoo hisses. He himself is trying not to turn around and sneak a peek at Doyoung, who had raised an eyebrow when Mark turned up the third time in a week, brazen smile on his face. After Jungwoo sat down with Mark, Doyoung had left the counter too, since there were no customers during the afternoon lull, and went out of the cafe to start cleaning the glass wall with a squeegee.

To Jungwoo’s relief, Mark stops being so blatant, and begins his theatrics for the day, feeding Jungwoo the cake he’s eating. Jungwoo sputters when Mark clumsily smears cream on his cheek, then grabs a napkin to dab it off.

Jungwoo is about to snatch it to wipe himself, but Mark only leans closer over the table and earnestly tells him that he’s talked to Jaemin, and affirmed the scheme is going swimmingly.

“You can use me,” Mark is urging, when they are interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. They both jump, having being so distracted neither realised Doyoung had reentered the shop and is looming over them. His eyes are shrouded in shadow from this angle and Jungwoo can’t read them.

“It’s about time for you to get back to work, Jungwoo.” Doyoung breaks the silence that has fallen. “I need your help with something.” Before Jungwoo can reply, he’s turned and stalked off.

Mark looks a bit forlorn after Jungwoo leaves him sitting alone, and Jungwoo feels bad for bailing so fast the moment Doyoung summoned him. He’s glancing at Mark, who appears torn between leaving and staying to finish his tea, when Doyoung’s voice beside his ear makes him leap out of his skin again.

“Look at me,” Doyoung snaps, low, which throws Jungwoo because he’s never been short or impatient before. Doyoung’s eyes are narrowed, and Jungwoo hastily focuses on the drink he’s working on. Suddenly he feels arms coming up around both his sides, and his hands holding the metal jug shake because Doyoung is closer than he’s ever been, so close behind him their bodies touch and Jungwoo can smell his cologne. He’s taller than Doyoung but right now, between his arms, Jungwoo feels like he may be smaller than him.

Doyoung doesn’t say anything else, just steadies his hands and guides Jungwoo to pour the layer of milk froth, before finally backing off and instructing him to do the next step alone. When Jungwoo finishes, the coffee shop is empty and Mark is gone.

Doyoung catches him peeking and Jungwoo quickly returns to his task, but Doyoung doesn’t rebuke him this time.

“With that guy Mark… you seem pretty close?” Doyoung says, casually.

Jungwoo darts a nervous glance at him. Doyoung’s arms are folded, leaning against the counter and watching him.

“Um… yeah. He’s my best friend.”

Another silence descends, before he hears a soft sigh. “Ah… I guess you’re more comfortable with people your own age after all.”

Jungwoo’s hands still and he raises his head. There’s that complicated expression on Doyoung’s face again. Somehow, he looks sad. Jungwoo’s gut tightens, words sticking in his throat.

“He’s been coming by too often.” Doyoung turns away with a sharp look at him that makes him hasten to resume his task. “It seems to be distracting you.”

“Yuta hyung’s friends come by all the time during his break too,” Jungwoo points out without missing a beat, then wonders what the hell he’s doing.

Doyoung doesn’t reply for another minute, before responding. “I didn’t say your friends can’t come.”

 _What were you saying, then?_ Jungwoo stares at Doyoung’s broad back, the question unable to roll off his tongue. The conversation seems to have abruptly ended, leaving him frustrated and a mess of emotions. For some reason, Doyoung feels doubly aloof today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this update took a while, I got a lil busy with rl but I thought long and hard about it and I really do want to finish this fic! I haven’t been feeling very confident about my writing, especially here, but I love this pairing and enjoyed writing it. I was super touched by how many people showed interest in the first short chapter already. Thank you to anyone and everyone who’s reading this. Promise the rest will be finished at a faster pace :)


	3. Chapter 3

A few weeks pass in this manner. Mark continues dropping by whenever he can, but he has his own life too. Lucas finally manages to get Yuqi’s number and while Jungwoo congratulates him, he feels bleak.

He has Doyoung’s number — had it from the start, though they’ve only used it to exchange friendly work-related messages and no more. He still has no idea about so many things. Does Doyoung already have a girlfriend? Would he even consider dating a guy? Dating _Jungwoo_?

The shop hires a new delivery boy because they’ve been getting more orders. Doyoung takes Jeno under his wing immediately, much like the way he adopted Jungwoo when he was new.

It rankles, hearing Jeno sweetly calling Doyoung _hyung_ , obviously as smitten as Jungwoo is and not hiding it. Doyoung smiles at Jeno in a way Jungwoo thought was reserved for him. Could it be that Doyoung goes around collecting dongsaengs the way Jungwoo accumulates hyungs, creeping into other guys’ hearts and minds the way he did Jungwoo’s? The thought makes a pit open in his stomach.

Helplessly, he watches them getting closer. Doyoung lights up whenever Jeno’s motorcycle rumbles up outside the doors, and Jeno saunters in taking off his helmet and running his hand through his hair like some bad boy. Doyoung practically runs to him with the exclusive drink he always prepares Jeno, and then they sit down, chatting a mile a minute and paying Jungwoo no mind except for Doyoung calling to him that he’s taking his break and for Jungwoo to prepare the delivery orders for Jeno.

Jeno is younger than Jungwoo, possibly cuter and less awkward. He has an eyesmile to die for. If Jungwoo wasn’t already crushing on Doyoung, he might even have developed a crush on Jeno himself.

Jeno comes in once when Doyoung is in the restroom, and greets Jungwoo with a cheerful grin. “Hyung!”

Jeno fluffs his helmet hair like usual, and says he’s really thirsty, leaning against the counter. “Could you get me something to drink?”

“… Sure. Hold on.” Jungwoo drags himself to pour a cup of lemonade. He ignores Jeno’s bright thanks and flounces away after putting the drink down. In his peripheral vision he catches Doyoung emerging from the back, giving Jungwoo’s disgruntled expression a perplexed look but saying nothing. Jungwoo’s heart twinges.

He mechanically works on the delivery orders, unable to ignore Jeno and Doyoung sitting at a corner table in their own universe, despite himself. Is that worshipful daze in Jeno’s eyes the way Jungwoo stares at Doyoung, too?

He knows he’s being rude and graceless, but Jungwoo can’t help his moods. The final straw comes that evening, when he finally gets the latte art Doyoung taught him and he’s been working on right. For the first time, he managed to draw a perfect heart in the foam of a matcha latte, but when he tries to show Doyoung, Doyoung just brushes him off with an absent “Later, okay Jungwoo?”

Doyoung places placating hands on his shoulders, but only to squeeze past him on his way to the kitchen to get Yuta out to help, and in the next second he’s disappeared behind the swinging door. The next customer calls from the long queue at the counter, and Jungwoo gives his cooling latte art a last look before pouring it down the sink. Doyoung doesn’t even spare him a glance when he reemerges with Yuta in tow, just nudges him to resume making drinks with Yuta while he handles the cashier. Jungwoo broods silently. He pities the customers who have to drink the cups of coffee he makes tonight, because they can’t possibly taste good.

Doyoung only asks about it much later, after closing. They’d started walking to the bus stop together after work some time ago, and though Jungwoo doesn’t really feel like it today, he didn’t know how to slink off by himself.

“Ah, what was it you wanted to tell me just now? Sorry, it got so busy all of a sudden —“

“Nothing important,” Jungwoo shrugs blithely, and Doyoung slows his footsteps, glancing over at him, but Jungwoo just continues walking.

“Jungwoo,” Doyoung calls sounding uncertain, and he finally stops and turns around. There’s a delicate, pretty frown on Doyoung’s brow. Jungwoo hates himself for noticing.

Doyoung closes the distance between them, his eyes finally fixed on Jungwoo only in the quiet night.

“Did Jeno do something to upset you? I couldn’t help noticing you seemed a bit annoyed… Well, whatever it is, you don’t have to tell me, but — just be nice to all our customers.”

“He’s not a customer,” Jungwoo says.

“He’s my friend,” Doyoung responds after a moment, voice kind of supplicating.

It makes Jungwoo even more bothered. Why does Doyoung care so much, anyway? He hates how irrationally jilted and neglected he’s felt not just today, but since Doyoung started paying attention to someone other than himself. It’s stupid to feel threatened and insecure, but when it comes to what he cares about, he’s never been able to control his sensitive, overthinking side, no matter how much he despises it. If he were Doyoung, he would lose interest in himself when confident, sweet Jeno came along too.

“What’s wrong?” Doyoung places an apprehensive hand on his upper arm. The concern in his eyes pains Jungwoo, like the heat of Doyoung’s touch his pathetic body reacts to.

“You’re not acting like yourself,” Doyoung says, deep voice all solicitousness, and before Jungwoo can do something reckless like grab his wrist and forcibly kiss him, he shakes off Doyoung’s hand.

“You don’t know me that well.” His voice quavers, so he hardens it. “Stop being so nice to me.”

_It hurts. I want you._

_I want to monopolise you_.

Of course, he’s lying. Doyoung is one of the few people who have tried to go past his walls and get to know him. He’s the only person Jungwoo feels absolutely _safe_ with. He’s just such a _good person_ , Jungwoo might not only have an elephant-sized crush.

He might seriously have fallen in love.

The atmosphere between them becomes strained after that. It’s his fault, he supposes. Even days later, Jungwoo can’t forget the hurt that flickered across Doyoung’s face under the streetlights when he uttered those brash words. He never expected there would come a day when he didn’t look forward to work at the coffee shop.

“It’s not working!” he wails into the video call Mark and Jungwoo are having with Jaemin on Mark’s laptop at their usual table. He came straight for his shift after classes with Mark tagging along, but since he was early Doyoung hasn’t arrived yet. At this point they’ve stopped messing around trying to get a reaction from him anyway.

Jaemin lets slip a cackle before slapping his hand over his mouth, and Jungwoo glares into the screen. “Not fucking funny.”

“Respect your hyungs,” Mark adds.

“Sorry, hyung,” Jaemin drawls, popping his chewing gum. “Are you sure, though? I mean, I haven’t really been personally there, but judging from what Mark hyung told me, he’s _definitely_ into you.”

“Lit!” Mark enthuses, but Jungwoo gloomily shakes his head.

“I’m telling you guys. _I’m_ the one getting jealous.”

“Aww, hyung —“ Mark starts, but Jaemin butts in.

“Don’t listen to him; I’m the one dating a guy. And who helped you, Mark hyung, get your girlfriend anyway?”

“You, Nana,” Mark sighs.

Jaemin nods smugly, the camera dropping down to his shirt as his arm gets tired from holding his phone. “Trust me,” his disembodied voice says, “This technique never fails. It’s _exactly_ how I scoped out my man’s feelings.”

“You flirted with everybody to make him jealous?”

Jaemin nods, then grunts when he realises they can’t see his face. He tilts the camera back again.

“I thought you did that because you’re a hoe,” Jungwoo can’t help teasing the youngest of their trio. Jaemin is their baby, though he can be a pain in the ass sometimes, and he never fails to cheer Jungwoo up.

“Uh no, that’s you bitch,” Jaemin retorts lightly without missing a beat. Someone offscreen hollers his name from the distance, distracting him.

“Gotta get back to my bae, soz.” Jaemin looks back at them with a lazy grin. “Adios, single losers. See you at school.”

“I’m not single!” Mark protests, but Jaemin has already hung up before they can demand, again, when they’re going to be introduced to his elusive boyfriend from another university. They started dating last month and are still in the honeymoon phase, so Jungwoo and Mark have been trying hard not to complain about this mystery guy who’s hogging Jaemin’s time.

“You’re jealous?” Mark gives him a sly smile and Jungwoo scrunches his nose. Mark only snickers. “You’re so cute, hyung.”

Footsteps behind them make Jungwoo slam the laptop shut, illogically, since Jaemin’s call has ended, but his wits are scattered as usual when he whips around to see Doyoung. His unsmiling expression as he takes them in reveals nothing. Jungwoo straightens, realising he was still braced over Mark’s shoulders from trying to fit into the webcam screen. He wonders how much Doyoung overheard.

“Let’s clock in,” Doyoung just says tersely, heading to the back ahead of Jungwoo. Jungwoo’s stomach sinks and he pats Mark’s shoulder, trotting after Doyoung. He reemerges after donning his apron intending to grab Mark some cake but his friend has packed up and left.

Doyoung is already hard at work, dismantling the espresso machine. He’s wearing glasses today. Fuck, he looks sexy. Behind the lenses, his eyes appear more distant than usual, hopelessly unattainable.

 _Smile at me_ , Jungwoo thinks, aching. _Say my name_. He knows it’s his play, his turn to reach out if he wants; but when it comes to Doyoung, he’s uncharacteristically unreasonable.

Distracted, he later spills a drink he’s serving, almost on a customer no less. In a panicked daze, Jungwoo watches the customer’s face start frowning, then smooth out before he realises Doyoung has swiftly appeared behind him. His tone is contrite and authoritative as he orders Jungwoo to take over the cashier while Doyoung wipes up the mess efficiently and bows over and over to the customer until she smiles and accepts his apology.

Jungwoo steps backward and almost treads on Doyoung’s shoe. Doyoung catches his elbow and Jungwoo’s breath hitches because it feels like the first time in forever Doyoung has touched him.

“You’re such a klutz,” Doyoung mutters in his ear, and gives the small of his back a push. “Go take a break; wash your face if you’re tired.”

“Hyung, sorry, I’m an idiot —“ The apology slips from his mouth, unsure even which incident he means it for, but dries up before finishing.

“It’s fine, doofus. Everyone makes mistakes. The customer didn’t even mind.” Doyoung is beaming at him as if there never was any awkwardness between them, and just like that, Jungwoo’s heart is soaring again, with the exquisite torture that is Doyoung’s proximity. No doubt the customer only forgave Jungwoo because of _that_ smile.

“Doyoung hyung.” The words come out in an involuntary whimper. Jungwoo’s hand reaches to catch his hyung’s fingers, before he slips away again.

Doyoung turns, eyes wide. Jungwoo drops his hand but Doyoung blinks at him.

“What?” he asks softly.

“I just wanted to say —“ Jungwoo licks his lips, blushing. _I just wanted to say your name_. He squeezes his eyes shut. “Thank you.”

When he opens his eyes, the intensity of Doyoung’s makes him squirm. Doyoung looks serious, with that hint of melancholy again.

“I thought you wanted me to stop being nice.” His voice is barely above a whisper.

“I didn’t mean it.” Jungwoo’s own voice is hoarse, his pulse thudding in his ears. He’s contrary and makes no sense, but for some reason he expects Doyoung to _understand_.

And he does. “Good,” Doyoung concludes. “Because it would be very hard for me to not be nice to you.”

The words swim in Jungwoo’s brain, making little fireworks go off. Exquisite torture, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The number of kudos this already has blows my mind! As I mentioned at the start I never expected many people to read it at all, nor did I expect how passionate I got about this verse haha. Your support honestly means so much to me. There’s a lot going on in the world right now, so I hope everybody is staying safe.
> 
> I might have to add on a couple more chapters to this, I’ll fix the total number when I confirm exactly how many. Thank you again for bearing with my posting schedule :)


	4. Chapter 4

Doyoung gets busy, and Jungwoo hears a hiss from behind. He turns to see Yuta staring owlishly from the window he passes food out from the kitchen, chin propped on his folded arms. Yuta beckons him in, so Jungwoo checks the queue isn’t unmanageable for Doyoung before hoisting the rack filled with plates and cups to bring to the dishwasher. He likes to show off his strength by doing the heavy lifting, though Doyoung wasn’t wrong that he’s buffer than Jungwoo.

“What, hyung?” he asks while loading up the machine once in the kitchen. There’s a pause before Yuta speaks up.

“You know, back in Japan they used to say my middle name was Cupid.”

Jungwoo drops a fork with a clatter, whirling around to squint at Yuta’s face. Yuta sighs and picks it up, relenting. “I was kidding. But… if you want to bake something for somebody, I’m free tonight. We could stay after work and I’ll help you.” Yuta shrugs.

Bake somebody something? Jungwoo blinks, the idea immediately appealing though it never occurred to him. Does Doyoung have a sweet tooth? Jungwoo can’t help remembering the cookie he gifted him the first time they met, which feels so long ago now, only because so much has happened since. He fell, hard.

Doyoung seems disappointed when Jungwoo apologises that they can’t leave together today because he has something to do with Yuta. Doyoung peers suspiciously around him into the kitchen where Yuta is leaning lazily against the worktop. “What?”

“It’s a secret,” Yuta calls, and for the first time, Jungwoo sees Doyoung pouting. It’s unexpectedly cute and Jungwoo wants to whip out his phone to take a picture to set as his lock screen, or something.

“Fine.” Doyoung leaves after handing them the keys to lock up, looking slightly forlorn, and Jungwoo feels bad because he’d looked so eager to head home together for the first time in a while since they awkwardly stopped walking to the bus stop together after the day he spouted his impulsive words.

Yuta sits on a stool and flips through a recipe book while Jungwoo bustles around baking the cookies because he’d insisted on hand-making everything himself. After he’s followed Yuta’s instructions and slid the tray of dough into the oven, face and arms streaked with flour, Yuta speaks up in the silence, seeming bored.

“Doie’s a great guy. I’ve known him a long time.” Jungwoo spins around again at the unexpected words, Yuta somehow constantly flustering him into a cold sweat today.

Yuta just looks back at him with his patented poker face. “And single too,” he adds. A pregnant pause falls in which Jungwoo absorbs this; wipes his hands on his apron and hopes they don’t leave clammy prints. His pulse quickens despite himself at this information.

“Uh… okay. Why are you telling me this, hyung?” He feigns disinterest, busying himself with opening the oven to check on the cookies.

Yuta laughs, sounding amused. “Hate to burst your bubble, but you guys aren’t exactly subtle —“

“Ah!” Jungwoo releases the burning tray as sharp pain makes him realise he forgot to wear the mitt. “Damn.”

“Shit,” Yuta echoes, standing up and approaching. “Are you okay? Sorry, hyung shouldn’t have teased you while you were —“

“No hyung, it was my fault; I’m clumsy as hell.” Jungwoo grimaces, holding his reddening hand and trying not to show the sting.

Yuta opens the ice machine and dumps some into a bucket. “Hold your hand in here or it’ll be hella painful later. I’ll finish up the rest for you.”

Jungwoo argues but Yuta just glares and says, “Brat, do as you’re told.” True to his word, he helps Jungwoo take out the done cookies and wrap them up in cellophane with a fancy ribbon after cooling.

“So that’s what you two were doing last night.” Doyoung covers his mouth, then looks relieved when he joins the dots. Jungwoo shifts from foot to foot, holding the package out. Their fingers brush awkwardly as Doyoung finally takes it, with a shy and still shocked expression. It makes Jungwoo realise this possibly appears weird — him giving his colleague hand-baked cookies.

To make matters worse, before he can run away to hide, Yuta materialises and pipes up from behind: “He burnt his hand making them.”

Before Jungwoo can turn to glare at Yuta for exposing him, Doyoung has grabbed his right hand with the hand not holding the cookies. Jungwoo winces reflexively and Doyoung lets go with a worried frown. “Sorry, sorry. Let me see.”

“It’s no big deal. Yuta hyung gave me ice for it,” Jungwoo hedges, but Doyoung continues holding his palm out sternly until he places his hand in it.

After Doyoung has examined the fading burn, clicking his tongue, and Yuta slunk away, Jungwoo withdraws his hand in mortification. Doyoung tilts his head and gazes steadily at him, then shakes it with an exasperated sigh.

“You didn’t have to do this for me. You’re so stubborn.”

“You’re more stubborn,” is Jungwoo’s lame retort, and Doyoung raises his brows.

“I’m steadfast, not stubborn,” he corrects. Well — Jungwoo casts his eyes to the ground — he can’t argue with that.

“Hey,” Doyoung says softly, drawing him into eye contact again. He grins, looking so pleased Jungwoo’s heart lurches. “I appreciate it, really.” He grips Jungwoo’s hand and they exchange a friendly shoulder bump. Jungwoo almost expects him to go _Thanks man_ , Mark-style.

Later, during another lull, Doyoung retrieves the pack of cookies and unwraps it. He studies the pink colouring. “Cherry blossom?”

“No, strawberry.”

Doyoung chuckles. “I know, I can smell it. Just teasing you.” Jungwoo laughs out loud, and Doyoung’s eyes widen.

“Did I just make you laugh?”

“Mhm.”

“Whoa, I’m proud. You’re always making people laugh, but rarely laugh yourself.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Jungwoo laughs again and worries his lip as Doyoung pops one into his mouth. He loves the way Doyoung eats, unselfconsciously, enjoying his food. Doyoung swallows and issues his verdict, releasing Jungwoo’s bated breath.

“Food for the soul,” Doyoung pronounces, and Jungwoo’s skin crawls with heat and pleasure.

“So is there a reason you baked me these? Did I forget some special occasion?” Doyoung peers at him inquisitively, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

Of course — because it’s been months since Jungwoo realised his feelings, and he’s surer than ever. That Doyoung is the one person he feels at home with, who he can wear his heart on his sleeve around, who makes him shine.

He’s the one.

What he replies with though is, “You gave me a cookie the first time we met.” He pauses, sheepish, and scratches his head. “You remember?”

“Of course I do.” Doyoung is looking at him with so much fondness, Jungwoo ducks his head to his chest again.

Doyoung continues munching on the cookies through the rest of the shift. Jungwoo sees a crumb on his lip, and without thinking reaches out to thumb it away.

“What the —“ Doyoung reels, taken aback, and Jungwoo snatches his hand back too, realising himself.

“There was a crumb —“ he explains shiftily; Doyoung mutters thanks and turns away, but Jungwoo can see his ears blushing, obvious due to his fair skin. He must be weirded out. Jungwoo curses his carelessness, tries to ignore the phantom sensation of Doyoung’s surprisingly soft mouth on his finger.

But Doyoung turns back after serving his customer, and starts laughing.

“You’re precious,” he says apropos of nothing. “You know that, right?”

Doyoung is so absurdly pleased by his stupid present, Jungwoo feels embarrassed.

“Hyung,” he blurts out, “Are you happy?”

His question is random, but the way Doyoung stills for a moment, eyes suddenly unguarded, seems more than that. It’s almost as though he’s never been asked this question before, which of course, can’t be true.

“Yeah,” he answers finally, hesitates before continuing, “Especially these last months — I’ve been really happy.”

Jungwoo can’t sleep again that night. The previous night it’d been because of Yuta’s voice playing in his head, saying _single_ ; and today it’s the text he received — the first text from Doyoung that isn’t work-related at all.

 _Don’t get hurt when I’m not around_.

Jungwoo still can’t get over the short message the next day, drifting to work in a floaty bliss. Even Jeno’s arrival can’t dampen his mood.

And maybe this is enough, he suddenly thinks. Whatever scheme he’d cooked up to attract Doyoung’s attention has been put on the back burner, and lately he’s just been feeling gratitude for being able to be by his hyung’s side; enjoying the nearness without getting greedy or having thoughts of possession. Maybe he’d been trying too hard before, let his heart get out of line.

Maybe knowing Doyoung is happy is enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is NOT over! I just haven’t changed the chapter number, which I will do by the next part. I think it’s obvious this fic is going to be longer than expected, not LONG, but longer than 10k. I was originally going to end it with the confession and a short epilogue, but my outline now includes a brief glimpse of their relationship post getting together. If all goes well, the confession should be in the next chapter - I won’t drag things out with too much filler. I really am sorry I misled readers into thinking this would be much shorter due to poor planning. Do stick around if you’re interested and willing to follow this humble fic to the end :) 
> 
> I hAd to obnoxiously insert a random shoulder-bumping scene after how bro-dudey dowoo were acting in LNPPS ep 0 lol
> 
> Btw, if anyone is interested in checking it out, I have another unrelated nomin coffee shop au in my works titled angel cake (shameless self-promo) ((yes I gave both my coffee shop aus matching names lol))


	5. Chapter 5

Or so he thought. But then a week later Doyoung’s university classmate, Sejeong, starts dropping by the shop, and the old jealousy flares up, eating at Jungwoo. He now has to contend with Doyoung smiling broadly at not only other guys, but girls too.

He tries his best not to be juvenile and cantankerous again, but he must not be doing a very good job because Doyoung tugs his sleeve to get his attention and gives him a concerned smile.

“Who made our Jungwoo sad, hm?”

Doyoung looks so calm, waiting for his answer, calling him that like it’s nothing. Nothing phases him. “Ah, you’re driving me crazy, hyung…” Jungwoo can’t help muttering.

Doyoung seems about to press further, puzzled, but Jeno walks in at this time and they’re interrupted. Jungwoo hears him sending Jeno off with a loving _drive safe!_ and continues scrubbing the tables without looking up. Doyoung approaches him again, and eases the cloth from his hand, helping to finish.

He looks up at Jungwoo over the gleaming table with a hopeful smile. “There’s some left of the drink I made Jeno. Want a cup?”

 _I don’t want his sloppy seconds_ , Jungwoo wisely doesn’t mouth off. He fears not only Doyoung’s injured look, but also judgment, disappointment in the eyes he adores. Jungwoo isn’t a nice guy like him. He feels bad for even wondering if Doyoung is flirting with others deliberately as he had too, because the reason why Jungwoo likes him in the first place is that he doesn't know how to play games like that.

It was his own hubris he thought he was being treated any better than one of many. His own fault he went and developed a puppy crush all by himself. Doyoung doesn’t owe him requital — or worse, pity.

Still, when closing arrives and the three of them are goofing off, loose with exhaustion and the relief of concluding another shift, doing the cleanup together, he can’t help ending a chain of imitations he’s doing with one of Jeno. Jungwoo runs his hand through his hair and exaggeratedly squinches his eyes into forced crescents.

Yuta only flashes a grin, changing the song blasting from his phone, but Doyoung cracks up, fist at his mouth the way Jungwoo hasn’t seen him laugh at anyone else’s jokes except his own.

“Is that Jeno? Stop,” Doyoung pleads halfheartedly, getting a stitch.

Jungwoo flips his hair, tries not to preen under Doyoung’s attention and appreciation. “That’s what you like, isn’t it?” he says lightly, resuming mopping the floor because his ears feel hot.

Doyoung has collapsed into a chair to catch his breath. “You are hilarious,” he declares, and Jungwoo can hear the warmth in his voice without even looking up.

That’s the kicker. He doesn’t want to be funny, or even cute. He wants to be attractive, smoulderingly hot. The way Doyoung is to him. He’d even stepped up on his grooming, starting to wear cologne and dropping any previously sloblike tendencies he had. None of which seemed to make an iota of difference.

Yep, he’s thoroughly fucked.

Yuta is standing behind the counter at the start of his next shift.

“Is hyung not here yet?” Jungwoo mumbles, and Yuta smiles, not even asking who he means.

“I cut my hand accidentally and he insisted on doing all the washing today.” Yuta shows him a band-aided finger. “Um, why don’t you go help him until I need you out front? I’ll holler when people start coming in.”

Jungwoo doesn’t need to be told twice.

He finds Doyoung elbow deep in pink gloves and sinkwater, still looking more breathtaking than he has any right to be. He’s afraid Doyoung might reject his help, but he shifts a little, making space for Jungwoo, the comfortable tandem they slip into new but not unfamiliar. Their elbows bump as Doyoung passes him stuff to fill the dishwashing rack, but neither move.

The back door is propped open and the afternoon sun filters in, falling across where they’re standing at an angle that makes the soap suds, and Doyoung’s eyes, sparkle. He looks so accessible like this, so attainable Jungwoo’s head swims and his chest pounds.

He knows that Doyoung likes watching dramas and Ariana Grande and Doyoung knows his dog Obok, but Jungwoo still can’t parse how Doyoung feels about him.

It’s not just his devastating smile and boyish eyes and huge heart; his strength and positivity Jungwoo so admires and wishes he could absorb just a little, by osmosis, that makes it impossible to see him as a colleague, or even a friend. It’s the simple fact that Doyoung is _there_.

He’s always there, until his presence has grown so big inside Jungwoo, it fills him up. Takes over his whole heart.

They’ve known each other a hot minute, and what he knows about Doyoung is probably the tip of the iceberg, but Jungwoo can’t help craving to learn more. Doyoung is like a book he’s only partway through and already addicted to, every page compelling. Of course, he may be wrong, but Jungwoo is confident it’s one worth reading.

In the middle of their idle chatter, Jungwoo lapses into silence. He touches his neck, an absent habit, and watches Doyoung’s eyes follow his movements to his Adam’s apple, then flick back to the dish he’s washing.

The words fall from Jungwoo’s lips, as naturally as his next exhale.

“Hyung… I’m weird.”

Doyoung snorts. “I know."

“No…” Jungwoo continues as if in a dream, inexorably. “I’m _weird_. The more I try to stop thinking about you… the more I can’t stop.”

 _Take responsibility_ , he almost finishes, but that doesn’t sound right. Doyoung isn’t responsible for his feelings.

Jungwoo is.

So he takes a deep breath and forces himself to look up into Doyoung’s round, searching eyes without wavering. His voice shakes like a leaf, though, as what comes out is, “I need to know, hyung. Is it only me who’s feeling this way?”

Standing in the alley during his break an hour later, Jungwoo still can’t stop shaking. His palms are clammy and cold. He half-wishes he’d bummed a cigarette from Yuta — he’s never smoked in his life, but today doesn’t seem like a bad time to start.

The kitchen is empty, Doyoung having slipped out front soon after Jungwoo sidled through on his way out the back door. Doyoung was still washing cups tirelessly, his back a wall, and Jungwoo felt physically sick. They hadn’t spoken or looked at each other since Yuta coincidentally called right after his confession and Jungwoo left Doyoung with his forearms submerged in the glistening sink and his mouth gaping.

The only thing stopping him from running away, leaving work right now, is his sense of duty. Plus, Yuta’s hand is hurt and even if it weren’t he wouldn’t be able to handle the evening crowd with only Doyoung. Jungwoo’s responsibility is becoming increasingly frayed by the shame and mortification churning up his guts, though.

He’s checking the time on his watch when a hand wraps around his wrist and the breath is knocked out of him to realise Doyoung has somehow appeared without him knowing. Face flaming, Jungwoo instinctively tries to squirm free, but the grip around his arm tightens.

“You’re going to resign?” Doyoung’s voice is low, his face stricken, and Jungwoo groans in sheer frustration, still trying to wrestle free.

“Yuta hyung told you? I was only joking —“ Desperate, he fakes a brittle laugh, the humiliation worse than ever. Maybe he can play the whole thing off as a joke.

Doyoung doesn’t laugh. He takes a step into Jungwoo’s personal space, making him back up. Jungwoo feels the alley wall behind him, his smile fading. He blinks rapidly at Doyoung.

“Where are you dragging me?!” Jungwoo yelps a minute later as Doyoung practically hauls him down the alley, away from the cafe as Jungwoo looks back helplessly; seeming to have gone crazy.

“I wanted to wait until work ended, but —“ Doyoung mutters agitatedly. “Yah! Stop struggling!”

Jungwoo finally shakes off his iron grip, only for Doyoung to grab his hand and lock their fingers together, as if afraid Jungwoo will disappear.

“We can’t leave him all alone!”

Doyoung’s eyes are blazing when he meets them, making him lose all his bearings again.

“I don’t care.” Jungwoo can hardly believe the words he’s hearing from responsible, professional Doyoung. “I already called Jaehyun to come relieve us. They can hold down the fort.”

He takes advantage of Jungwoo’s shock and confusion to tug him out into the main road and a taxi, giving the driver an apartment address.


	6. Chapter 6

Doyoung seems calmer by the time he unlocks the door of the apartment he explained he shares with a housemate, Taeyong. Playing hooky, bunking off work for the first time, _with Doyoung_ — the whole thing still feels surreal.

“Sorry I just kind of… kidnapped you.” He has the decency to look sheepish, avoiding eye contact once they’re in the living room of the empty house. “You have your phone and wallet with you?”

“Yeah. You should be,” Jungwoo responds in a sassy tone, despite feeling increasingly nervy, unable to ignore the discomfort of being stuck in the same confined space after what he’s said.

Doyoung giggles, also with a more nervous edge than usual, and gestures at the couch. “Why don’t you make yourself at home while I change my clothes real quick? I’m not going to devour you.”

Jungwoo blanches at the last bit, the almost mischievous glint in his eyes. Declines when Doyoung asks politely if he’d like to borrow a shirt, despite the temptation.

Jungwoo gingerly settles down and sips the water Doyoung served him, trying to recover his composure before he returns. He feels the way he always does around him, equilibrium in a tailspin, like he might burst at the seams. Hypersensate. He’s been in relationships before, but no one’s been able to shake him up so deeply; and they’re not even in a relationship — yet. Jungwoo tries not to guess what Doyoung brought him all the way here to say — he feels so desperately hopeful, he’s afraid he might jinx it if he puts the possibility into thought.

Doyoung walks out of his room and he feels even more off-kilter. He merely threw on a tee and sweats but looks so _good_ , Jungwoo’s senses teeter off the edge into panic again.

He feels the couch dip as Doyoung sits down beside him, closer than normal. He reaches out to cover Jungwoo’s knuckles, for a second.

“Jungwoo-yah,” Doyoung says carefully, in his dulcet voice. He hesitates, eyes finally locking onto Jungwoo’s with gravity. Jungwoo stares back, and Doyoung falters, like he’s trying not to look away. He licks his lips. “I just want to make sure I’m not misunderstanding what you said.”

There’s the longest silence in the world. Doyoung’s eyes are so bright, filled with hope and something pleading, that Jungwoo’s heart is suddenly beating from his fingertips. The answer slips from his mouth, entranced.

“You’re not.”

He hears a breath of relief hiss out from Doyoung, or maybe himself. Doyoung is taking in his confirmation, looking stunned and overwhelmed anew. And fresh vulnerability is licking through Jungwoo’s veins.

“How long…?” Doyoung murmurs, leaning forward and pinning his eyes. “Since when…” He’s not being all that coherent, but Jungwoo understands what he’s asking.

“Too long,” he admits, all shame thrown out of the window. _Too damn long_.

“Kim Jungwoo, you headass.” Doyoung’s outburst makes him jump. Despite the harshness of his words, his voice is soft, eyes pained. “Why didn’t you just spit it out earlier?”

Jungwoo opens his mouth, unable to answer. Of course, Doyoung’s right. He anguished unnecessarily, unwilling to lower his pride, fearing he would make their working relationship awkward and destroy their friendship. He was a coward — or as his friends would unapologetically roast, a pussy. To tell the truth he’d been unwilling. Had always thought that if he ever fell in love, it would be better, safer, to be the more reserved one, the one who loved less. But when it actually happened, he didn’t really have a choice.

“I was scared,” he confesses in a small voice.

He can almost see Doyoung soften, the heat in his eyes melting. He reaches out to touch Jungwoo’s hair, and Jungwoo goes still as a statue, heart threatening to leap out of his throat.

“You know you could have anyone you wanted. Right?”

Maybe he’s emboldened by the thrill the words send through him, their implications, but irrationally, even before he asks outright — _And what’s your response?_ — Jungwoo demands, “What about hyung? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

The pretty flush on Doyoung’s cheekbones, though, is enough to confirm the reckless assumption he’s making. It’s Doyoung’s turn to open and close his mouth like a fish.

Looking mollified, he covers his mouth.

“I… I thought I was dropping pretty broad hints. But then it looked like you’d started dating that friend of yours, and I was crushed. I thought I didn’t stand a chance —“ He abruptly trails off, looking like he’s said too much.

Jungwoo is floored. He’s hardly even wrapped his head around the affirmation that his feelings are reciprocated. Requited. It feels like a dream. Neither can he believe that he was a mystery to Doyoung, when he always felt incredibly transparent.

Grudgingly, he realises he may have created unintentional confusion by playing games instead of being straightforward.

“Mark’s straight,” he mumbles sheepishly, under Doyoung’s intent gaze. “And he has a girlfriend — Haechan’s, like, the campus flower.

“You didn’t notice how I felt,” he babbles, petulant despite knowing he’s at fault, just because he can.

“What about how _I_ felt?” Doyoung’s voice drops a pitch. “Like a mother?” he says, with fervour. “I never wanted you to see me as maternal.”

Confused at first, Jungwoo realises what he’s talking about — the day Doyoung sent him the message not to get hurt when he wasn’t around, Jungwoo was too flustered to think of a good reply but didn’t want to leave such an important message on read, so he’d unthinkingly responded with _ok mom_. It's only now he understands it wasn’t only mindless, but heartless.

Doyoung doesn’t wait for him to reply before continuing. “And even if he’s straight, and already attached — that was dangerous. People do catch feelings unexpectedly, you know.”

Jungwoo feels something in his chest skip at the unmistakably possessive look in Doyoung’s eyes. Doyoung doesn’t drop his gaze this time, holding Jungwoo’s firmly, almost challengingly. Jungwoo is suddenly aware of his masculinity, his proximity, rendering his knees weak.

So Doyoung knows a thing or two about catching feelings, too. Surprises never cease.

“What are we going to do with you?” Doyoung’s voice is velvet and his eyes wide with undisguised awe and helplessness, like looking at Jungwoo hurts.

Jungwoo just gazes back at him expectantly, a wrenching sensation in his gut. _Say it_ , he thinks hard, trying for telepathy. _Say it first to me_.

“Hyung...”

“Yes, yes.” Doyoung laughs, and Jungwoo’s heart floods. “You’re hyung’s only baby. That’s what you wanted to hear, isn’t it?”

Jungwoo bobs his head, happily. His grin fades as Doyoung boldly shifts closer on the sofa, until their arms and thighs are touching. Doyoung picks up his hand and suppresses a grin at the hitch in his breath as he caresses it. Jungwoo wants to wrench his hand away to salvage his dignity, but can’t seem to control it.

“A little slow on the uptake, are we?” Doyoung teases, and Jungwoo finds his tongue to retaliate.

“Speak for yourself.”

Doyoung laughs again, sounding so delighted Jungwoo’s whole body sings. “Touche,” he murmurs, and any remaining traces of snark perish in the lake of affection Jungwoo sees in Doyoung’s eyes.

“What about what _I_ want to hear?” Doyoung leans closer still, braces his hand on the couch behind Jungwoo without touching him, until they’re barely more than a breath away. Jungwoo tries not to lean away, not wanting to see hurt falter that pristine, sharklike smile. But he feels exposed as a turtle without its shell under it, under Doyoung’s silk and honey voice, his eyes quietly roving down to Jungwoo’s mouth before shifting back to his eyes.

“Doyoung hyung,” he says hoarsely, another brilliant technique Jaemin taught him surfacing in his mind at this crucial moment.

“Hm?”

Jungwoo clears his throat, pitches his voice sultry but his smile innocent.

“Jungwoo wants a kiss.”

His stomach flips at the glitter of Doyoung’s eyes, suddenly serious.

“Where?”

Jungwoo taps his cheek, and time freezes for an awkward beat before Doyoung crowds in and gives it a brief, shy peck. Jungwoo’s face burns with the sensation.

He points at his forehead, finger shakier, and hears the nervous chuckle caught in Doyoung’s throat as he reaches up to brush clumsy lips across Jungwoo’s bangs.

Jungwoo draws a shallow inhale in the taut space between them, and swallows before pointing at his mouth, last.

Doyoung looks at his lips, licks his own. Jungwoo bites his lower lip, retracting his shaky finger. He’s about to laugh, call it a joke gone too far, when Doyoung places a hand on his thigh and moves in.

Jungwoo glimpses the hunger in his dark eyes before he closes his own, and his insides dissolve.

_So this is how he kisses_ , he thinks as Doyoung slots their mouths together, less chaste this time; and Jungwoo kisses back, equally earnest and gentle.

“Why do you like me?”

They’re in the midst of post-first makeout shyness, unable to meet each other’s eyes, when Jungwoo demands this. During all that’s transpired, he’s almost forgotten they’re supposed to be at work right now.

“Huh?” Doyoung blinks at him, still looking a little embarrassed as if he wasn’t the one who just kissed the daylights out of Jungwoo.

“I mean…” Jungwoo already regrets asking, his voice decreasingly audible. “It’s not just because of my appearance, right?”

“Jungwoo,” Doyoung exclaims so heatedly, he jolts.

“W-what?”

Doyoung gazes deep into his eyes, enunciating every word. “Listen carefully, because I’m never going to say this again.”

Jungwoo sits up straight, eyes wide, and despite his attempts to keep his solemnity Doyoung busts out laughing.

He finally manages to contain his sniggers after a few minutes and an offended look. With difficulty, Doyoung resumes what he was saying.

“Kim Jungwoo, you… yes, you’re hot, but that’s not the only thing I love about you. Not in the least. I like that you’re good-looking, but not arrogant about it. You’re witty and never boring. You’re so fragile and wispy, it makes me want to protect you. You’re the most genuine, softhearted person I know. You respect your elders. You love animals. In everything you do, you try your best… and you hold yourself up to such exacting standards.” Doyoung’s eyes are shiny, ticking off every point with a finger. He pauses for a breath before finishing, cheeks flushed by now. “You are... the most loveable person I’ve ever met. How could anyone — how could I _not_ like you?

“Hey! Are you crying?” he breaks off in alarm, eyes bugging out.

“No,” Jungwoo sniffs. “A dust got in my eye.”

To have noticed, catalogued these things about Jungwoo… he can’t believe Doyoung has been paying attention for this long. He was wrong, too stuck in his own selfish angst to realise how much Doyoung was watching.

“It’s just…” Jungwoo fumbles to respond under his concerned gaze. “No one’s ever said all this stuff to me before.”

“Well, I can’t let my boyfriend sell himself short,” Doyoung chides reproachfully, not noticing the way Jungwoo tenses at the address. _Boyfriend_. He could get used to that.

Doyoung regards him, a bemused glimmer in his eye.

“You have no idea how many more girls started showing up at the shop since you started working?”

“Eh? Girls?” Jungwoo gets flustered, and Doyoung sighs, not unkindly.

“Figures. You really do need me, huh.”

“I can’t live without you,” he blurts, and Doyoung does a double take.

“Such a smooth operator,” he deadpans, guffawing again, but Jungwoo isn’t really sweet talking. He can no longer imagine life without Doyoung, or remember what his days were like before. Even though he knows it’s not true — he can’t help feeling like he’s always, only receiving.

“C’mere.” Doyoung beckons, and when Jungwoo tentatively rests his head on his shoulder, Doyoung wraps an arm around him. Jungwoo listens to Doyoung’s quickening heartbeat, and closes his eyes with a beatific smile. Doyoung strokes his hair. Embracing for the first time, somehow feels both awkward and like coming home.

Amid the myriad struggles of life, he knows better than anyone else how easy it is to get bogged down, sucked into apathy; not because he doesn’t care about other people, but because it takes all of one’s strength just to keep oneself afloat. To see and step beyond his own cloistered world, into others — he seldom found the wherewithal to do that. So when Jungwoo met Doyoung, he’d been amazed by how easy Doyoung made giving look.

The tough front he puts on notwithstanding, Jungwoo thinks he must also feel uncertain and exhausted at times. And so he wanted to be there, to make Doyoung laugh when he couldn’t and smile when he’d used up all his vitality on others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> felt like this chapter was a little bit blah haha hopefully its only anticlimactic for me and not readers!  
> if you're still reading ily really


	7. Chapter 7

Doyoung seems about to say something when they hear the front door opening, and leap a foot apart. Jungwoo rakes a hand nervously through his hair as a confused, incredibly hot guy enters the living room. The awkwardness is palpable as Doyoung introduces Taeyong, who darts his eyes between them, delicately shaking Jungwoo’s hand.

“Oh, I see. So _this_ is the reason you’ve been moping around for months? I get why now.” Taeyong smirks.

Doyoung pinches the bridge of his nose and avoids Jungwoo’s curious gaze. “Hyung, please just leave us alone.”

“Alone, you say?” Taeyong’s leer widens and Doyoung’s ears turn a brighter red. “Well, sure. Sorry for the interruption. It was nice meeting you, Jungwoo. Don’t forget I live here too though!” He flits to his room, chuckling to himself.

“Ugh. Just ignore him,” Doyoung mutters, rolling his eyes, and Jungwoo nods, laughing at his fluster. His boyfriend is so adorable, Jungwoo doesn’t even feel jealous he’s been living with such a stunning guy all this time.

Apparently, they have more tribulations to overcome yet.

“So _that’s_ why he kept begging me to switch shifts.” Jungwoo’s ears prick up on one of the rare occasions he arrives early and finds Jaehyun shooting the breeze with Yuta. He can’t believe it, but Yuta must have spilled some gossip, right in front of him.

When he steals a glance they’re both looking in his direction with leery expressions. Jaehyun beckons him over.

“Congrats,” he says, and Jungwoo pretends not to know what he means, glaring at Yuta. He bites his lip. “What were you saying about switching shifts, hyung?”

“You didn’t know?” Jaehyun blinks. “Why did you think you guys have the same shift all the time? Do you know how many meals Doyoung hyung treated me to at the start, to trade shifts? Eventually Yuqi just arranged you two together permanently since he was just gonna ask me to switch anyway.

“Oh, you naive summer child,” he chuckles at Jungwoo’s stunned face. He had no idea Doyoung went out of his way to watch over him, this much. “Don’t tell him I told you, I’ll get killed,” Jaehyun adds.

“It’s also why he’s been acting cool recently,” Yuta informs Jaehyun in a stage whisper. Jaehyun snorts, then covers his mouth.

Jungwoo gives them both the best withering look he can muster while blushing like a girl. “Speaking of which, hyung, when were you planning to tell Jaehyun hyung about your feelings for him?” he asks Yuta with a saccharine smirk.

Leaving Yuta sputtering at his evil fib and a confused Jaehyun goggling at him, Jungwoo frolics away.

They step into romance the same way they moved into friendship. With ease. Doyoung is as gentlemanly a lover as Jungwoo expected, even more avuncular than he was as a friend. He cooks for Jungwoo, brings him lunchboxes at work, beams when Jungwoo gushes his food tastes as good as Yuta’s. He surprises Jungwoo with the briefest of backhugs when he’s standing in the alley gaming on his phone during his break, disappearing before he can even turn. Lingering touches and clandestine smiles while he passes Jungwoo paper cups scrawled with an order and cute emoji Jungwoo knows isn’t for the customer but him.

They go to karaoke and duet love songs staring into each other’s eyes, drawing suspicious looks from Johnny. Jungwoo introduces Doyoung to his favourite — well, now second favourite — hyung, Taeil. Doyoung showers him with praise constantly, not just physical but emotional, hyping up everything he does. _My cute, pretty baby_ , he coos without embarrassment. _My puppy_.

“Wait, _Jeno_ was your boyfriend? This whole time?” To say he’s nonplussed to find out this mind-blowing coincidence would be an understatement.

“You should’ve just introduced us earlier and none of this misunderstanding would have happened,” Mark points out sensibly.

“Exactly,” Jungwoo huffs to hide the fact he’s ashamed he treated his best friend’s boyfriend like a nemesis.

“Dudes, how was I to know he secretly got a part-time job to buy me couple AirPods for our anniversary?” Jaemin humblebrags unapologetically.

“What anniversary, you just started dating —“ Jungwoo sputters, but Jaemin interrupts.

“I can't believe you were jealous of _my_ boyfriend. Like, holy shit.”

“Yeah hyung, you gotta agree that’s kind of a mindfuck,” Mark giggles.

He’s about to reply when his phone vibrates with a message from Doyoung’s contact, now saved under a ridiculous number of hearts. His friends are instantly background noise, a huge smile breaking over Jungwoo’s face.

_Good morning_

_I’ve been thinking about it._

_I should’ve told you how I felt first_

_That was petty of me_

_I’ll make it up to you._

_Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle ;)_

Jungwoo gulps, stomach in knots as he hides his phone from his friends’ craning necks and prying gazes.

They’re still flirting on KKT when he arrives at work, both still enthralled by the novelty of texting across the same room. The weekend part-timers Jisung and Chenle and kitchen staff Renjun dropped by, having met up together on their own, and Jungwoo and Yuta took their breaks to sit down with them. He’s being extra, not only because the three boys are egging their Jungwoo hyung on, but also because he knows Doyoung is keeping one eye on him. Jungwoo can feel his quiet, adoring gaze like a sunflower sensing the sun. His mind is still on the brazen texts Doyoung sent earlier and hasn’t alluded to since.

“Jungwoo oppa!” they hear suddenly, and because he happened to be glancing at Doyoung, Jungwoo sees the way his head snaps up and some of the coffee grounds he was handling scatter on the floor. _Fuck_ , he sees Doyoung mutter, bending behind the counter in a tizzy, and Jungwoo almost laughs giddily. He doesn’t think the habitual jealousy will ever fully fade, even though they’re no longer insecure. It’s not a bad feeling.

Haechan and Mark join their gathering, which becomes more boisterous. Jungwoo introduces everybody, and Doyoung calls Yuta to come help him at the counter and let Jungwoo hang a bit more with his friends, blatantly biased.

For the rest of the day Yuta keeps coughing _whipped_ under his breath until Doyoung loses his cool and shrieks, “Yah!” Jaehyun has also taken to hooting _get a room_ whenever they cross paths, probably as payback for the awkwardness Jungwoo put them through with his prank. He supposes they’ve become such an obnoxious workplace couple they deserve it — even when Doyoung is taking out the trash, Jungwoo catches himself swooning.

It’s Sunday, Doyoung’s only day off, and he invited Jungwoo to his house for a private date since Jungwoo’s parents are home. Doyoung makes them chai lattes — their job has made his culinary interests extend in the direction of fine teas. He’s wearing his nerdy glasses, looking illegally hot. Jungwoo catches him eyeballing his bare calves beneath his cargo shorts before Doyoung pushes his glasses up, tongue slipping over his lips.

They quasi-bicker over whether to watch soccer or put a movie on. Eventually, Doyoung relents and switches on the sports channel for him. He pads to his room, emerging with his tablet and headphones and rejoins Jungwoo on the couch.

“I’ll continue the drama I’m watching; we can still sit together.”

“Why don’t you watch TV with me? You can watch the drama after I leave.”

“I’ll be thinking about you after you leave,” Doyoung corrects. “And how will I learn cheesy lines to get into your pants, if I don’t keep up with my dramas?”

“Real romantic, babe,” Jungwoo says dryly.

“Here,” Doyoung acquiesces, “You can sit in my lap, if you want.” He pulls Jungwoo in and wrangles the tablet around him with difficulty.

They gradually get absorbed into their respective shows, until in the unlit living room, Jungwoo feels Doyoung’s hand creeping up his thigh, his other arm tightening around Jungwoo’s waist.

Initially he thinks he’s just too into his show, but then Doyoung’s fingers slide beneath the hem of his shirt and start rubbing circles above his hipbone. Jungwoo squirms, pretending it tickles.

“Why are you acting like a fuckboy?” he whines to hide his embarrassment, and arousal. Doyoung appears to have stopped watching his episode and started watching Jungwoo a while ago.

“That’s what you like, isn’t it?” Doyoung flashes him a lazy smirk, eyes glimmering in the dim late afternoon.

“Dweeb,” Jungwoo mutters, snuggling against his sturdy chest nonetheless. Doyoung notches his chin over his shoulder and Jungwoo feels his smile against the shell of his ear.

“Your dweeb,” he whispers. Needless to say, Jungwoo can no longer focus on the TV.

Even on the way home, he can’t wipe the dorky grin off his face. He’s continually charmed by how _effortless_ being with Doyoung is. With other hyungs, Jungwoo feels the need to impress, to try hard; and sometimes in the middle of friends it's like a switch is flipped and he goes from comfortable to excruciatingly awkward in the span of a minute. None of these apply around Doyoung.

He loves to laugh, so Jungwoo loves to make him laugh. Jungwoo loves to smile, and Doyoung loves to make him smile. They complement each other, like milk and toast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, that last line is disgusting lol
> 
> I’m relieved to confirm this fic is ending in 2 chapters! I hope everyone and your loved ones are well. Don’t forget to try and keep your spirits up too, and drink lots of water.
> 
> If you’re reading these words, my words; I love you.


	8. Chapter 8

He thinks it’s safe to say they’ve become one of those couples who live in each other’s pockets. It’s another Sunday and Doyoung turns up for their date in a cashmere cardigan with his favourite necklace, looking cozy as the perfect sweater boyfie. They get Gong Cha and then go to the arcade.

“Hyung, you’re so cool!” Jungwoo cheers as Doyoung tries to claw a Snoopy plushie, and Doyoung messes up his aim, growling _shut up_. He gets Jungwoo the plushie after three tries and Jungwoo kisses it with his eyes on Doyoung’s, watching him fidget.

Punch drunk with happiness, they stroll to a cafe in the nearby mall. Calling it market research, they’ve already been to countless coffee shops on various dates.

“But not as nice as our place, right?” Doyoung beams when Jungwoo compliments today’s. _Our place_. Jungwoo loves the complicit ring to it.

They jostle into a booth, Doyoung squeezing in beside him instead of sitting opposite. He promptly drapes a heavy arm over Jungwoo’s shoulder, like he’s been waiting to do it all day. It’s the closest they can get to hugging in public. Though Jungwoo’s rarely the one to sling his arm around his hyung’s shoulder, he’s glad it’s not the other way around, secretly enjoying being babied. He’s six feet tall, but Doyoung makes him feel exceedingly huggable and lissome.

While Doyoung is queuing for their coffees, Jungwoo catches a gaggle of girls checking him out. He’s both miffed and proud — his boyfriend looks hot as hell after all.

Jungwoo tears his eyes away and leans back in his seat, briefly removing his baseball cap to push his hair back. He basks indolently in the sunlight falling through the window, biting a thumb while he opens his phone camera to check his reflection. His eyes glaze over waiting for Doyoung to come back.

Apparently, Doyoung doesn’t feel as charitable as him. When he returns with the tray of drinks, he bends to Jungwoo’s ear as he sets it down. ”You’re doing it again.” His tone is mildly accusing.

“What? I was just spacing.” Jungwoo gives him an angelic look. Doyoung reaches across the table from where he’s sat down and tugs Jungwoo’s jacket back over his shoulders, where it’d slid down to reveal his bare arms and tank top.

He sometimes jokes that Jungwoo goes around “exuding pheromones”, without even being aware of it.

“What about you?” Jungwoo rebuts this time, only half-joking as well. “You’re so nice to everybody. You confused me so much. I even got mad at Jeno.” Yeah, he’s still not over that awkwardness, especially since Jeno didn’t even know how he felt before but now does after Jaemin told him everything.

Doyoung gives him a long look before taking a drag of his drink, slight smile playing at the edges of his lips.

“You don’t know me that well, Jungwoo-yah.” Doyoung parrots his words from back then, in a much gentler tone. “I mean, Jeno’s like my son, but I was deliberately being extra nice to him… to test you.”

Jungwoo’s drink nearly goes down the wrong pipe at Doyoung’s last words. He can’t believe his suspicions were founded — Doyoung had outsmarted him, given him a taste of his own medicine and he had no idea till now.

“I feel so betrayed. My life is a lie.”

Doyoung’s lip twitches. “Don’t be melodramatic. I’m sorry, okay? Tell me what you want and I’ll buy it for you to apologise.”

“I want…”

Jungwoo reaches under the table and finds Doyoung’s knee, runs his hand upwards. Doyoung stares, his muscles tensing under Jungwoo’s touch before a hand grips Jungwoo’s and removes it.

“Babe…” Doyoung says under his breath, tone warning. He crosses his legs and a giggle slips from Jungwoo’s mouth. Doyoung glares at him.

Jungwoo pretends not to see and starts eating the cake they’re sharing suggestively. He can sense Doyoung’s composure receding as he licks his spoon with a coy smile and almost fellates his straw.

Doyoung doesn’t seem to know how to react, draining his cup until the straw wheezes and rejecting the spoonful Jungwoo offers him. He stands as Jungwoo is provocatively licking cream off his lips. Jungwoo looks up, thrown. Doyoung mutters, “I’m going to the restroom.”

“Mmkay,” Jungwoo murmurs with limpid eyes, hugging the plushie on his lap tighter.

When he’s finished the cake and Doyoung still isn’t back, Jungwoo gets concerned and gets up to look for him, grabbing their stuff.

The moment he steps into the men’s restroom, Jungwoo is grabbed by the elbow and pinned against the door. He barely checks all the stalls behind Doyoung are empty before Doyoung pulls his cap off and shoves it in his tote. Then his thumb swipes Jungwoo’s mouth and his hands are in Jungwoo’s hair, connecting their lips savagely. Their bags slip off Jungwoo’s arms, falling on the floor.

It’s the first time Doyoung’s kissed him like this, deep and full of longing. His hands migrate down the line of Jungwoo’s body to his hips, then up again over his back, pulling their chests together so Jungwoo can feel the hammering in his. His own fingers curl on the soft nape of Doyoung’s neck.

Doyoung disentangles himself enough to purr, “Do you know how teases get punished, sweetheart?” His hair is disheveled, lips puffy, darkness of his eyes dangerous but playful. He knows every trick Jungwoo has up his sleeve, now.

It’s become a kind of game between them, to see who will cave first. Doyoung was like a piece of blank paper to him, so when he first whispered into Jungwoo’s ears the things he wanted to do with him, _to_ him, Jungwoo’s toes curled in shock.

Doyoung has never handled him roughly since the day he dragged Jungwoo to the taxi, but for some reason Jungwoo keeps thinking of that, especially when Doyoung is fucking him with such tenderness Jungwoo finally understands the meaning of _making love_. He’s been waiting for his boyfriend to realise he’s not made of glass, but Doyoung still treats him like a delicate flower. So, because he doesn’t know how to put it into words, Jungwoo sometimes tries to goad the dominant and aggressive side he knows Doyoung has to the surface. He’s barely had any luck before today.

Jungwoo lets his head fall back against the door, hearing the faint hum of people and music outside and feeling his recovering heartbeat pick up again with the thrill that someone might knock any moment. As if sensing his thoughts, Doyoung braces a palm on the door beside his head. Like he doesn’t want anybody to barge in and see Jungwoo wrecked.

Jungwoo smirks, dragging his tongue over his own abused lips and tasting the last remnants of cake. _Sweet_. He gives Doyoung a lush, heavy-lidded look and places his hands on his lightly heaving chest, seductively moving them down. Leans in and mouths at warm skin, finally answering his question. “Show me.” Jungwoo feels Doyoung’s almost imperceptible tremble as he cups Jungwoo’s jaw and finds his mouth again, licking in.

When they break apart this time, Doyoung grinds their crotches together, then palms Jungwoo’s dick through his jeans. Jungwoo nearly makes a wanton sound, biting his tongue.

“Fuck,” Doyoung breathes, eyes glassy. “My place?” comes the proposition in his bedroom voice, and Jungwoo tries not to look like the cat who got the cream.

They sheepishly pick up their bags and straighten each other’s clothes, not bothering to rip their eyes away to look in the mirror.

“How do I look?” Jungwoo fusses.

Doyoung grins in handsome disarray, tousles Jungwoo’s hair. “Like my prince.”

“He’s not in,” he supplies when Jungwoo checks for Taeyong’s presence once they’re at his apartment. “He won’t be back till tonight.”

“Did you _plan_ this?” Jungwoo’s voice shrills a little, and Doyoung's laugh echoes through the house.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry this took so long, I hope the slightly longer length makes up for it a little ;; I really wanted to keep the smut brief bc I suck at writing it but we all know im congenitally unable to keep anything short so… lol.
> 
> I wanted to give special mention to endtostart who commented on the last chapter with the longest and best comment this fic has received - for a writer to feel that the story in their mind was successfully expressed into words and conveyed to the reader is super rare, believe me, but your comment made me feel that way about every part of this fic i’ve spent the last 2 months working on ;;

Doyoung’s room is such an extension of him, with his candles and plants, plushies and minimalist decor that it never fails to calm Jungwoo every time he enters it. But today, he doesn’t have the time or wherewithal to pay too much attention, his heart pounding erratically as Doyoung closes the door and turns on him. There’s a silent but wolfish glitter in his eyes as he unbuttons his cardigan and pushes the sleeves up to his elbows, then runs a hand through his hair, eyes never leaving Jungwoo.

Jungwoo sheds his jacket self-consciously, and Doyoung closes the space between them in two strides. He squeezes Jungwoo’s bicep and takes his chin between his elegant fingers. The kiss is wet and sloppy, open-mouthed. Doyoung takes advantage of Jungwoo’s tilted head, mouthing hotly down his exposed neck to gently bite and suck at the skin there, leaving a hickey.

They separate, breathing shallowly. Despite his dilated pupils Doyoung starts snickering under his breath again, and Jungwoo shoves him a little.

“What are you laughing at now?”

Doyoung struggles to regain his straight face, Jungwoo supressing his own giddy smile.

“Nothing, sorry, just — you’re so shy. It’s cute.”

“You’re the one who’s shy.”

Jungwoo bites his lip, embarrassed at his awkwardness being obvious. He pushes Doyoung backwards with his hands on his shoulders, towards the bed. Doyoung’s eyes gleam, seeming to like him taking charge, and he settles down on it readily. Gazes up at Jungwoo and rakes insolent eyes down his body, with unabashed lust.

“Why don’t you take off your shirt?” Doyoung suggests innocently, making him flustered anew.

Not to be outdone, Jungwoo lifts his tank over his shoulders and tosses it to the side, feeling his bare torso start to flush under Doyoung’s hungry stare. Finally, Doyoung breaks their tense eye-lock and spreads his legs, groping his own crotch. Jungwoo’s heart rate picks up to see his arousal filling out the front of his pants.

Doyoung slants a knowing look up at him through his lashes. “You’ve been wanting to suck this all day, haven’t you? Or was I reading the hints wrong?” His voice is quiet but hypnotic.

He takes pride in this. Doyoung is always so fucking _immaculate_ , it makes Jungwoo relish even more being the only one allowed to see this side, who can make Doyoung unravel. They’ve done this so many times by now it amazes him how it can feel so brand new.

“Take your time,” comes his boyfriend’s husky murmur from above his head, his voice sounding ridiculously deep like this. He’s more encouraging than ever during sex, knowing exactly how to praise Jungwoo to both set his blood on fire and reassure him. _Good boy_ , Doyoung usually says when they’re in this position. _You look so erotic_.

Seated on the edge of the bed, Doyoung had undone his pants and let it drop to pool around his ankles, and lowered his briefs below his knees to give Jungwoo easy access. He spread his legs again and Jungwoo, kneeling between his knees, feasted his eyes on how hard he’d already made Doyoung with just his clumsy foreplay. He can’t wait to get his mouth around his boyfriend’s shaft; he’s almost salivating.

Trembling, Jungwoo presses a couple of tender kisses to Doyoung’s inner thigh, his heart stuttering at Doyoung’s short inhale. He takes Doyoung’s dick with the fingers of both hands and starts working it fuller, feeling it thicken and grow hotter in his dry grasp.

Doyoung’s hips buck up a little, whining at the friction. Needing some slickness, Jungwoo spits on his hand discreetly and continues moving it up and down Doyoung’s cock. He sees Doyoung’s hands curling into the bedspread where they’re braced behind his back.

Doyoung gasps his name, needy, and Jungwoo lowers his head to lick a slow, whorish stripe up his length. A shiver ripples through Doyoung’s entire body, his cock jumping in Jungwoo’s hand. He feels wetness against his cheek and smiles to see Doyoung beginning to leak precum from his slit.

Jungwoo fastens his lips over the crown of Doyoung’s cock and sucks it up with a greedy noise. Doyoung only hisses, more slick oozing out. He reaches to touch the base of his cock, but Jungwoo bats his hand away.

He continues tonguing at the head of Doyoung’s cock, swirling his tongue and gripping the remaining length in his right fist. After a few moments, he sneaks a peek through his eyelashes to check if Doyoung is feeling good. Jungwoo’s heart almost flips to see Doyoung looking down at him with his hair falling into his eyes, which are hooded and burning. He’s never seen Doyoung look quite so exposed before.

Doyoung grunts his name, to _fucking hurry up_ , so Jungwoo swipes his tongue over the tip again before pushing the suction of his lips further down Doyoung’s rigid length. He carefully takes Doyoung in until Jungwoo’s face is buried in his crotch, fingers of both hands eagerly wrapping around what he can’t take until his lips touch his fingers. His entire being is focused on Doyoung’s dick, the heat emanating from the pulsing organ.

Doyoung’s cock is heavy on his tongue. Jungwoo feels as it hits the back of his throat, and stills for a moment, regulating his breaths to bypass his gag reflex.

He feels saliva gathering in his throat, mingling with the taste of Doyoung’s precum. Jungwoo pulls back his lips a bit, making Doyoung gasp above, then swallows his dick down again.

Doyoung doesn’t thrust upward, not even a little, even as Jungwoo’s throat compulsively constricts over his head. Jungwoo can feel how much restraint it’s taking from the tightness of his pelvic muscles, tensed up below his touch. He only reaches into Jungwoo’s hair to thread his gentle fingers through his locks, a gesture which goes straight past Jungwoo’s defences. Doyoung’s fingers creep down to the pulse point at the side of his neck, resting right over his pulse. He presses them ever so slightly into the fresh hickey, making Jungwoo scrape his teeth over him.

Jungwoo almost loses himself in Doyoung stroking his hair, until he feels Doyoung moving to his cheek in wonder, almost touching his dick through the thin skin of Jungwoo’s cheek where it’s hollowed over Doyoung’s cock. He wishes, just like every time, that Doyoung would fuck his throat raw, until he can hear the hoarseness in his voice the next day — but he never does that unless he loses control.

Jungwoo starts fellating even more eagerly, if with little finesse and precision. He’s never felt so desperate to please anyone in his life. Doyoung has his hand curled on the nape of Jungwoo’s neck, tugging slightly at the cropped hair there, nails almost digging into his skin, and Jungwoo can picture his head thrown back above Jungwoo, sweat starting to gleam on the graceful line of his neck. The scent of musk and sex is thick in the air between them.

A little spit dribbles down Doyoung’s shaft and past Jungwoo’s lips as he gets messy. Soft, slick sounds fill the hushed room. The only other thing Jungwoo can hear besides his pulse rushing in his ears are the vulnerable, unrestrained noises Doyoung is making above him, so so naked they go straight south and make shivers run down his spine.

Doyoung’s breaths are ragged by now, but when a tear leaks from the corner of Jungwoo’s eye he’s still considerate enough to thumb it away for him. He’s close — Jungwoo can tell from the way his pelvis is tightening and the digits in Jungwoo’s hair have gone from caressing to yanking almost painfully at his scalp. Jungwoo laves at the cock in his mouth with more fever, eager to bring Doyoung to his climax, to feel how much he’s going to come down Jungwoo’s throat, but Doyoung unexpectedly whispers, “Baby.”

Jungwoo stops sucking, confused and with difficulty pulls his mouth fully off Doyoung’s cock to look up at him. Doyoung hisses at the lewd popping sound and sight of Jungwoo’s wrecked lips.

“Hyung?” Doyoung’s flushed cock throbs in his hand, a thread of saliva stretching between it and Jungwoo’s mouth.

Doyoung moans, looking as hot and sweaty as Jungwoo expected. His lips are bitten red.

“Wanna cum on your face,” Doyoung mutters under his breath, blushing visibly. His voice is scraped too.

“Oh.” Jungwoo licks his lips, swallowing the saliva in his mouth at the same time. Doyoung runs trembling fingers through Jungwoo's matted bangs. “Okay.”

Doyoung smiles shakily down at him, and Jungwoo smiles back before going back down on his cock, excitement and a familiar heat starting to pool in his own stomach. He can feel his own erection chafing in the confines of his jeans.

It doesn’t take much more before Doyoung’s harshening breathing gives out to muffled swears, his hips trembling, and then without warning he grabs Jungwoo’s hair and drags him up off his engorged cock, grabbing it with his own hand.

Jungwoo closes his eyes, coughing a little, and feels the warmth of Doyoung’s cum streaking his face, hearing his boyfriend’s breaths in crystalline definition as he comes so copiously, pride surges through Jungwoo anew.

Finally, Doyoung lets go of him and falls back onto the bed, his chest heaving. Within a minute he’s rolled over smoothly to reach for the box of tissues above his bed.

He passes it to Jungwoo, who cleans up quietly, carelessly wiping his face and tossing the balled up tissues aside. He’s coming down from his own high, and when his face is decent he can’t help letting himself finally relax and rest his head against Doyoung’s knee. For just a little while. Doyoung’s underwear and pants are still pooled around his feet and it should be awkward, but it isn’t. Silence and the sensation of satiation spreads through the room.

Then the moment is over and Doyoung is standing up unsteadily, zipping himself up and helping Jungwoo get to his feet too. His hands linger on Jungwoo’s elbow and back with concern.

“Thank you,” Doyoung whispers in his ear while kissing his cheek tenderly, and Jungwoo melts into his broad chest, shuddering as Doyoung runs a playful hand down his side, playing his ribcage like a piano.

“Lie down.” Doyoung gently pushes him towards the bed, flush fading from his cheeks and glint entering his eyes again. “I said I would take care of you, didn’t I?”

Jungwoo obeys, the loose boxers under his jeans feeling tight, straining uncomfortably as he manoeuvres to lie back on Doyoung’s bed. Doyoung is drinking him in with keen eyes, and Jungwoo can’t help reaching down to touch himself, tingling with electricity.

“Don’t.” There’s nothing sexier than Doyoung’s post-coital voice, throaty silk. “Wait for me.” The order is unstated but apparent. “I’ll get the lube. You want a hand job or fingering… or both?” Doyoung leans against the door with his arms folded, teeth flashing at Jungwoo’s hot blush.

Of course he’ll wait. Loving Doyoung has taught him nothing if not patience, taught him the sweetness of delayed gratification.

Seeming unable to resist, Doyoung advances again and reaches down without a word, sliding his hand between Jungwoo’s thighs. Instinctively, Jungwoo closes them over his arm, whimpering.

Doyoung looks smug. He knows there’s nothing like this gesture that makes Jungwoo feel like his real estate.

He finds Jungwoo’s semi-erection and rubs it through the layer of clothes, drawing a pained gasp.

“So sensitive for me,” Doyoung smiles, close-lipped. Jungwoo’s practically panting. Only Doyoung can make the word _sensitive_ sound like a compliment.

“I’m gonna make you scream my name,” he promises. Jungwoo’s dick twitches.

“I’m not going to scream your name,” he scoffs, faking bravado even as his cheeks burn.

Doyoung just leans against the doorframe, smirking archly. “You sure?”

Damn him. Just to get the last word, Jungwoo calls out in a reedy voice before he turns.

“Hyung…”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow, eyes soft. Jungwoo delivers the words he knows to be his boyfriend’s Achilles’ heel.

“Be gentle.”

Jungwoo waits at a table while Doyoung finishes up the day’s accounts and shutting down the POS system. His boyfriend looks so sexy concentrating with his brow furrowed seriously. He hadn’t forgotten to give Jungwoo a plate of macarons as a snack while waiting, and Jungwoo smiles to himself as he eats to think how Doyoung will lick all traces of the sweetness from the inside of his mouth later.

After parting ways with Yuta, they walk to the bus stop. Doyoung offers Jungwoo his jacket gallantly — it’s summer but it rained earlier so the night is a bit chilly. Jungwoo accepts it although he isn’t cold, wondering if he’ll be able to steal it without Doyoung realising so he can curl up with it to sleep. It’s one of the baggy jackets Doyoung favours, big even on him.

Doyoung holds his hand on a deserted stretch of road, between streetlamps. They’re always pent up at the end of the day, from being in frustrating proximity for hours but not allowed to touch. It’s hard to say goodbye. They don’t get tired or sick of each other even after spending all afternoon and evening together. Even when they need a time-out from the rest of the world, they never need a break from each other.

Occasionally when Taeyong stays at his girlfriend’s, Doyoung will shyly invite Jungwoo for a sleepover. Today isn’t one of those days though.

Sometimes the world gets too much and life burns him out. Sometimes he gets lost in his neuroses, but at these times Doyoung is unfailingly his safe haven and harbour. He teases Jungwoo for being on his own frequency, his own wavelength, but Doyoung is also the one who understands that Jungwoo needs his inner universe, needs this outlet for his sanity. And he respects it, never intruding.

They’ve been dating long enough for each other’s flaws to be revealed, to get disenchanted from their initial rose-coloured idealisations. They’ve had their first heated quarrels and petty disagreements. Sometimes the things Jungwoo can’t stand about Doyoung get on his last nerve.

By now he’s seen Doyoung at his worst, and likewise Doyoung has seen Jungwoo’s most raw, unfiltered side. But inexplicably, he still thinks just as highly of Jungwoo, and Jungwoo still hasn’t met anyone with the capacity to accommodate him as Doyoung does.

He doesn’t think he ever will.

When they’re together sometimes they talk about serious stuff. Like whether they should enlist together so they won’t miss each other for a couple of years — though Doyoung will have to defer his grad school. Or when they should come out to their families — not only as bisexual, but also dating another guy in a long-term relationship.

Like this, they discuss the future.

And it’s a little scary, but sometimes it strikes Jungwoo that just maybe, this is the real thing. Maybe he’s in it for the long haul.

It’s also somehow reassuring — knowing these feelings are something that will, almost definitely, be abiding. He’s glad they met at this age, as twentysomethings, stepping into the new world of adulthood together.

“Why do you like me?” he asks apropos of nothing as they’re reaching the bus stop. Every so often he likes to surprise Doyoung by springing this question on him. Jungwoo wonders if he will ever run out of answers, if he asks enough times.

Doyoung blinks at him, eyes shiny in the halogen lighting. He takes a second to consider seriously, before grinning.

“Because you trusted me not to break your heart.”

That’s right — no matter how many times Jungwoo asks, Doyoung’s answers never get any less heartfelt. Jungwoo feels a familiar warmth seeping through the cavity of his chest, filling it up.

“If you break my heart, I’ll break your bones,” he threatens, hiding his emotion behind levity.

Doyoung laughs so hard he doubles over. It’s become Jungwoo’s favourite sound in the world.

It was just so _organic_ , the way they fell together. The way he feels when they’re together — like flying and being totally grounded at the same time. It’s something Jungwoo never felt in his life before.

“This hyung.” He shakes his head, trying and failing to contain his own smile. They’ve reached the bus stop but neither seem to have noticed. Maybe if he manages to distract Doyoung enough with his body and lips, he won’t notice when his bus comes. Maybe they could miss the last bus and sit here, under the rickety shelter all night, stargazing.

Doyoung checks they're alone, then lifts Jungwoo’s hand to his lips and kisses it, reverently. He smiles the smile reserved for Jungwoo only.

 _Today, too, you are my centre of gravity_.

“Tell me…” Jungwoo says softly, making Doyoung lean forward to hear.

It’s become an inside joke between them — from the day they confessed. Doyoung looks embarrassed and awkward, but Jungwoo flashes a ditzy grin and watches its effect on him.

“Indulge me.”

“All right,” Doyoung sighs, lips twitching. “What do you want to hear?”

Jungwoo takes a deep breath and thinks of how he always preferred to blend into the crowd, never quite at ease with standing out. Despite the idiosyncrasies he never could hide, he still wished he was less of an outlier, a satellite.

Then he’d met Doyoung, and all that felt strange and odd about himself, became beautiful.

“Tell me that I’m special. That there’s no one else like me.”

“You’re special,” Doyoung says sincerely, giving Jungwoo a finger heart and reminding him of the first day he caught feelings. It feels like a miracle, that his limerence has finally become redamancy. “There’s no one else like you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s finally finished after 2 months! I feel so proud of myself TT I still cant believe I had the AUDACITY to write such a long fic with such shallow knowledge of doyoung and jungwoo, and im sure due to my ignorance I made a crapton of factual and characterisation mistakes readers were just too nice to point out. hopefully it wasn't too cringy... Still, I want to thank you if you stayed till the end, for your patience and interest and sharing my love for this verse. I really appreciate the readers who supported this from the start, and along the way, with hits and kudos - the hits to kudos ratio is WILD btw. im especially grateful to the commenters who sustained me through the throes of the middle of the fic which is the hardest part, and told me how well I was doing ;; just… this whole experience of writing this fic has been unforgettable and heartwarming for me. I feel like I had the kind of passion for this fic I usually only have for the first fic I write for any pairing, and this verse is just so dear to my heart. I can only hope it could give the precious bunch of people who joined me along this journey even half as much pleasure as writing it brought me, as well as escapism in these harrowing times.
> 
> If you enjoyed reading this, do leave me a kudos and a comment :) also, I hope yall don’t mind this shameless plug but I posted a nomin oneshot last week ‘7 days a week’ with a decent amount of dowoo side pairing - well at least more than the nomin here lol - and imo the dowoo there is p cute so you can check it out if you like ;3
> 
> Lastly, I have a couple of super short outtakes aka scenes which didn’t fit anywhere into the fic so I axed them, which I may post as a final chapter in a short while so stay tuned if you’re interested haha


	10. outtakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these are just outtakes, pls go to chapter 9 for the last chapter!
> 
> oh also they're literal crap I didn't include them in the fic for a reason lmao

1.

“Ah… my boyfriend is so interesting.”

“Shut up.”

“Do aegyo for me and I may consider.”

“I thought you hated my aegyo.”

“…”

“Oh my god. You secretly love it, don’t you?”

“…”

“I’m never letting you live this down.”

“Baby, please…”

“Unless…”

“Unless?”

Jungwoo smiles, poisonously sweet. “Unless this time round, hyung lets me be on top.”

2.

They're playing video games and Jungwoo can’t help noticing that Doyoung has abandoned his console to stare at Jungwoo’s profile. As soon as Doyoung realises he’s noticed, he gives up all pretense and starts kissing a lazy, hot trail up Jungwoo’s neck. Jungwoo shivers, because it tickles, and Doyoung’s diabolical giggle fills his ear.

“Ah hyung, really… you wanna do it again so soon?” He tosses his own console down, whining. “I’m still sore.”

He never expected Doyoung to be such a clingy boyfriend. Not that Jungwoo is complaining.

“Seriously, I didn’t know you’re like this... I’m younger than you but you’re more —“

“More…?” Doyoung catches his eye, both their cheeks pink by now.

Jungwoo swallows the words, Doyoung’s eyes following the movement of his throat silently.

“It’s because it’s you. You make me like this.” That’s what Doyoung always says, softly.

“Now, though…” He nuzzles his lips into Jungwoo’s neck, nipping his ear while taking care not to catch his piercing, the video game they’ve both lost all but forgotten. “I just wanna cuddle.”


	11. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY I know I said this wouldn’t have an epilogue, but I realised soon after posting that the chapter 9 was a mess - and that I used the word ‘fingers’ like 15 times in it for some reason, which was humiliating… so I cleaned it up and wanted to let readers know somehow, but I didn’t want to just post an additional chapter without any content so I decided to write out a short tiny scene I’d left out of the fic originally bc its kinda filler, sort of another outtake I guess haha. You don’t have to reread chapter 9, I didn’t edit it THAT much that you’d notice the differences unless you read really carefully, but I know - well, I think - some readers would like to know I cleaned it up so I’m mentioning it :)
> 
> I just felt sorry towards the readers who have been with me for so long idk I felt the sloppiness, especially when it was the last chapter, was a bit disrespectful ;; never again will I publish a chapter after proofreading it only one time lmfao. Plus, i don’t have a beta so I have to catch my own mistakes. Maybe its nbd and just me being the annoying perfectionist I am,, but tbh im glad I wrote this lil epilogue bc its pretty cute imo haha
> 
> Anyway, thank you again to the readers who have been with me or joined me along this process of the past months - and even those who read this after it was finished - for giving me such a magical and heartwarming time!!! It hasn’t even been a week and I already miss this verse tbh, I feel a bit empty now that it’s over, maybe bc it was the first time I spent so long working on one story lol. I promise this is really the final chapter of this fic though, and im also sorry for flooding so many updates when the wordcount isn’t that long actually! If you’re feeling even a little withdrawal for this fic and verse like me, thank you ;-; and dw I’ll definitely try to write more dowoo in future. Ilysm.
> 
> Ps I read all the comments on the last 2 chaps and i’m very, very touched and grateful for the love uwu

“Penny for your thoughts.” Doyoung prods Jungwoo, sitting half in his lap on the couch in Doyoung’s apartment another lazy Sunday, indulging in the simple pleasure of each other’s company. Jungwoo glances over his shoulder to see Doyoung’s trademark grin on his lips, eyes curious. He’s always heartwarmingly interested in what’s going through Jungwoo’s head at any given time, insisting even this long into their relationship that he doesn’t know anybody as indecipherable.

Now Jungwoo smiles back, enjoying the knowledge that he’s making Doyoung guess again. He likes keeping his boyfriend on his toes.

“Just thinking about how cute you are, Doyoung.” Jungwoo puts on his best tall, dark and mysterious voice, and Doyoung’s eyes bulge. Jungwoo almost laughs. Doyoung has the funniest and widest variety of facial expressions he’s ever seen, though you wouldn’t be able to tell from first impression.

Every day, he discovers something new about his lover. And he hopes to keep peeling back the layers, until he reaches his core.

“Did you just drop honorifics? Don’t be an insolent brat,” Doyoung breathes, giving Jungwoo’s ass a light and playful spank and drawing a giggle.

“Why, _hyung_? Does it turn you on?” Jungwoo pushes his luck, while snuggling further into the crook of Doyoung’s arm. He buries his face in his boyfriend’s neck and presses a kiss there, delighting in the hitch in Doyoung’s breathing.

“What do you think?”

Without warning, Jungwoo’s hand is gripped and guided to rest atop Doyoung’s crotch, feeling an unmistakable stirring. Jungwoo moves his fingers a little over the growing bulge and Doyoung gasps in his ear. Then he pulls his hand away, deliberately, and pretends to sulk.

“What happened to _a quiet Sunday date_?” He repeats the phrase Doyoung used in his message when he asked Jungwoo over, with a slight mocking tone. “You only care about my body.” He purses his lips into a moue and sneaks a look at Doyoung, trying not to laugh.

(Despite their loverly playfighting and incessant attempts to outsass each other, Jungwoo knows in his heart that Doyoung’s attraction to him is anything but superficial. He’s constantly thinking of Jungwoo’s interests, putting them before his own — even today, the first thing he’d wanted to discuss seriously when they sat down together to start their afternoon of Netflix with Doyoung’s homemade popcorn, was that Doyoung had been thinking about this, and he felt working five days a week after school was too tiring for Jungwoo. He suggested Jungwoo ask for less shifts after summer break. Doyoung had added, in his subtle manner, that he was earning more than enough for his own expenses and could give Jungwoo part of his salary, if he needed the money.

“You want to be my sugar daddy?” was what Jungwoo ended up blurting out, more flustered than he cared to admit by Doyoung’s expansive offer. He’d never let Jungwoo live it down if Jungwoo honestly confessed that he would never want to work less days alongside Doyoung.

Doyoung raised an eyebrow, seeming amused rather than put off by the kinky address. “Why not?” He winked at Jungwoo, who was suitably piqued by the first time Doyoung’d ever winked at him.)

Presently, he answers Jungwoo’s earlier question with an even more scandalous quip, seeming unusually reckless today.

“Well, that’ll depend on how quiet you can be when I’m fucking you.” Jungwoo nearly spits out the sip of cocoa he just took from his cup.

He can sense Doyoung’s feral grin behind him, his arms tightening around Jungwoo’s hips. Jungwoo’s cock jumps in his pants like a well-trained dog at Doyoung’s careless caress, making him snicker.

“So, cutie,” he murmurs. When Jungwoo makes eye contact, Doyoung is already looking at him, intense. He feels himself flush hotly. Doyoung smiles, both hands slipping to undo Jungwoo’s fly.

“About that quiet Sunday date…”


End file.
